#before I get to much energy during a break and start having thoughts again

[ontologic-catgirl]

Sighhhh, one of these days I'm going to figure out I'm capable of maintaining a effective and fun dominant persona. For grappling, sword-fights, and debate. But cannot for the life of me actually keep it up for actual kink. You'd think taking immense joy in slowly peeling back someones defenses, before slamming my leg into there throat and throwing back the arm bar. Would translate well, but apparently not!

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: bff'sbrother!jungkook, softdom!jungkook, enemies2lovers-ish, he's a lil annoying in this, angst, mentions of rejection, one-sided crush, afab reader, smut, fingering, dry humping, penetrative sex, overstimulation (kinda), etc.

wc: 4076

a/n: another jk fic bc im taking time off work and have nothing to do</3 this went longer than anticipated lol sorry

masterlist

"what are you doing here?", grumbled the man as soon as he opened the door and spotted you on the other side of it.

"can you get out of the way? i'm obviously here for minji."

"she doesn't get here til tomorrow," he responded, though still moving out of the way to let you in.

you were about to snark at him again when he stopped in his tracks, eyes widening when they made contact with the suitcases you were struggling to drag behind you, "why are you carrying suitcases? fuck, don't tell me you're staying here," he grabbed onto one, stopping your movements.

"yes, jungkook. minji told me i could crash here for spring break. what's it to you? your house is big enough. just ignore my presence," you attempted to move your suitcases again, knowing you'd receive no help from the boy even if you asked.

"so you're here to ruin my break?" the complaints were never ending despite having entered the home only mere moments ago.

"stop being a child and get out of my way," you grumbled when the idiot refused to remove his hand from the handle of your suitcase.

he let out a heavy sigh, scrunching his eyes closed in annoyance before speaking again, "okay, move. i'll bring your shit upstairs."

"no, i can-"

"you can't carry all this upstairs. my mom's gonna be mad if i don't offer to help you. just let go," he muttered, pushing your hands away and somehow lifting both suitcases at once as he walked towards the stairs.

without any energy to argue with him, you just followed him upstairs, annoyed he insisted to pretend to do you a favor.

"are your parents home?", you asked, confused as to why he had been the one to open the door.

"no, they went out of town this weekend. they should be here tonight."

"why are you here?"

you knew this was his home, but it was a valid question. this had been the third time you'd spent some sort of school break at minji's house, yet jungkook had never been there during the duration of it, usually only popping up for a day or two by the end of each break.

"you mean in my house?", he chuckled sarcastically.

"you're never here- you know what i meant."

"didn't have any plans this time. why? am i ruining your break?"

the two of you finally made it to the extra guest room in minji's house, with jungkook settling your stuff on the bed and uncharacteristically taking a seat on it, as if planning to hang around. you ignored the thought and went to open your suitcase, planning to unpack a few of the things since you'd be staying for over a week.

"yeah," you deadpanned.

he scoffed, "not like i wanna spend my break with you either, princess."

groaning, you threw a folded shirt at him, "ew, i told you not to call me that."

seemingly pleased at having annoyed you, he chuckled and picked up the shirt you threw, folding it and placing it on the bed. he continued to occasionally grab one thing or another as you unpacked. you always knew jungkook to be quite fidgety, so you didn't question him grabbing your stuff to entertain himself as you unpacked.

jungkook wordlessly stayed on your bed as you went around the room organizing your stuff, attempting to ignore his presence but not entirely able to. you were willing to retain peace without complaining, but then he started making noise.

you usually didn't care for his presence too much, even as badly as the two of you got along, but the constant humming quickly got on your nerves. he hummed and hummed and did not stop even as ten minutes passed by, still taking stuff from your suitcase to fidget with. currently he was entertaining himself with a random shoe.

"jungkook! why are you still here?", you suddenly snapped, confused as to why he'd been sitting on your bed with a blank look on his face despite usually being liberal in expressing his dislike for you.

he looked at you for a few moments, no emotion on his face before speaking up.

"why don't we get along?"

"what?"

"you heard me. why don't we get along? you've been friends with my sister since childhood, but you've always hated me. why?"

"you started it," you murmured, taking the shoe he currently had in his hold and turning around to place it somewhere else.

he got up, walking over to you and turning you around by your shoulders and taking the shoe from you again, "i started it? what are you talking about? you've been rude to me since the seventh grade. i've just been returning the favor."

sighing in frustration, you grabbed shook his hands off your shoulders and stubbornly grabbed the shoe again, "why do you think that is, jungkook?"

a confused look overtook his face at your insinuation of your relationship being his fault, clearly not remembering what you were referring to.

"wha-what are you talking about?"

"god, you're such a dumbass sometimes. i mean, i assumed you didn't remember, but to have confirmation of it just kinda sucks," you chuckled bitterly.

he grabbed onto your shoulders again when you tried to walk past him, "tell me what you're talking about," he insisted.

for the most part, you didn't want to. you still felt embarrassed thinking about it, even if it had been over a decade since it had happened. to know he really didn't remember the source of your dislike for him also didn't really help matters. it just frustrated you at his presence even more.

through the years you had learned not to take the mutual banter too seriously. it was mostly lighthearted, to be honest. but any time you thought back to how it had started, you became beyond angry at the boy who was seemingly nice too all those he knew but you. sure, you had technically been the one to source this animosity, but he bad been the instigator of it after all.

you had been nine years old at the time, having recently moved into town and befriended minji. she had been your salvation, becoming instantly interested in being your friend despite you being brand new. you became quick friends, hanging out inside and outside school almost every day.

minji had the good fortune of being extremely close to her family, which allowed you to bond with them quite a lot. that was when you met her older brother, one of her favorite people in the world.

jungkook had been pure perfection in your young eyes, seeing him as unattainable at the young age of nine. he was two years your senior, which made you come to the quick realization that your crush would remain one-sided forever. except this didn't stop your naive heart to read into his nice demeanor and wishfully believe that maybe he'd like you back.

you crushed on him silently for three years, even coming to befriend him in the process. you wouldn't see him too often, but it was always nice when you did, always getting along quite well. this continued up until you hit twelve years of age, your tweenhood years. unfortunately, jungkook was now into his teens, meaning that he followed the footprints of every other man and had a short-lived phase where he was a bit insensitive to girls his age.

being completely delusional and being on your way to graduate middle school, you took a leap, deciding to invite jungkook as your date to your middle school prom. you had thought you read all the signs right, thinking that even if he rejected you, he'd still be nice enough to go with you as a friend. your hopes were completely crushed when he turned you down with zero hesitance, even patronizing you in the process.

the worst part of it all came later, when you were first entering high school. somehow a few of his friends had gotten word of the situation, dubbing you as desperate and obsessed with him. although the rumors died pretty quickly, and you were able to feign indifference to jungkook and everyone else, the seed of hate began to grow in you. little by little, you stopped speaking to jungkook altogether, eventually coming to proudly dislike him. despite minji's constant questioning about your change in demeanor towards her brother, you never told, not wanting any drift to be caused between you and minji, nor her and her brother.

the gradual change in your feelings for jungkook had been so natural that it made sense for him to not remember the source of the current state of your relationship. he had caught on naturally, simply bantering back with you whenever you gave him attitude. it was likely that he believed it all to be lighthearted at first, eventually becoming accustomed enough to it to not question it.

and now you were here, having to explain a stupid childhood heartbreak to the perpetrator of it all as he stared down at you in absolute wonder.

"eighth grade, jungkook. remember?"

he shook his head in confusion, his eyes still wide as his brain wracked itself to remember.

"the dance?"

"the dance? what dan- oh! the- the dance? that's it?"

'that's it'?

he mustve caught the look of annoyance in your face, as he quickly went to retract himself.

"fuck, wait. i didn't mean it like that, just- is that why you hate me? because i said no to you?"

you took a step away from him again, still frustrated, but his arms remained on your shoulders so you would keep looking right at him. it was awkward and extremely uncomfortable considering the context, but you didn't move away.

"it wasn't just that, jungkook," you started, "was it that horrible of a thought to go to the dance with me? i was twelve, you couldve been nicer about it. and to tell your friends about it? i was mocked for weeks after that. and now you wanna act like this is my fault? like ive just been mean to you for no reason?", you scoffed, looking at your feet in favor of not having to look at him.

"wait, who ... who made fun of you? i- i never told anyone what happened. why would i do that?"

"jungkook, stop. taehyung? jimin? they wouldn't stop bringing it up for weeks. it died down after a while, but i was already humiliated."

he shook his head and denial, seemingly at himself. finally letting go of you, he sat back on the bed, look of confusion still on his face before a lightbulb metaphorically manifested itself above his head.

"oh fuck," he muttered, "i- i remember now, but it didn't go down the way you think, okay? let me explain."

you crossed your arms and nodded, signaling for him to continue.

he uncrossed his arms, running them through his hair in a frustrated fashion before he began to explain, oddly passionate as he did so, "i told them right after it happened. i felt so bad for saying no to you, they noticed how down i was about it and asked. i swear i didnt say anything bad. fuck, i never knew they teased you about it, im so sorry," he rambled, "and i didnt- i didnt mean to make you feel bad when i said no. you're my sister's best friend and- and you were so young. i know it doesnt matter anymore, but saying yes felt wrong. it felt like id be taking advantage of you somehow."

"jungkook-"

"if it makes you feel better," he hesitated before continuing, "i, uh, i kinda had a crush on you when we were 17. i- i was going to ask you to my prom, but you picked a fight with me that day and told me to get the fuck out. thats, that's kinda when i started to hate you back," he smiled awkwardly towards the end.

that took you for a bit of a loop. you weren't a heartless asshole. it wasnt like you meant to hurt him through your dislike of him, but rather protect yourself from further rejection. it made you feel bad to know that you'd somewhat done a similar thing to him at some point, even verbally berating him time after time when his intentions hadn't been malicious.

"are you serious?"

"do you really hate me? for what i did, i mean," he interrupted.

did you? for the most part, you had just grown far too used to your animosity with jungkook. due to your own mean behavior towards him, he became equally as rude, creating a vicious cycle of disrespect between the two of you. but did you hate him?

the answer was probably not.

if you did, your heart wouldn't have jumped at the mention of him having had a crush on you back when you were seventeen.

"no, i don't hate you. do you?"

he turned to you, shaking his head, "of course not," he confirmed, "do you wanna start over?", he asked, getting up from the bed and walking over to you.

you couldn't help but chuckle at his sudden proposal. you also couldnt help in nodding in agreement, confirming that yes, you'd be willing to put aside a petty middle school misunderstanding in favor of starting over.

then he opened his arms, gesturing for a hug before asking for permission for one, "hug?"

wordlessly, you accepted the offer of a friendly hug, reasoning that it was only natural considering how touchy he was with everyone other than yourself.

when you went to pull away, his arms tightened around you, head burying itself further into your hair, "just a little longer," he murmured.

with no reason to deny him, you wrapped your arms around him once more, only letting go when he started to slowly pull away.

that's when you made the mistake of looking up at him as he attempted to make himself let go of you.

seemingly, he had made the same mistake, now locking eyes with you at a proximity far too close for two people who hated each other just mere minutes ago. stupidly enough, your eyes predictably went down to his lips, not realizing his own had done the same. the only difference was that he was far more daring than you, allowing his lips to lower down onto yours and envelop them in a soft kiss.

greedy hands dug into your hips before making their way to your waist, holding you as close to him as he could. your own hands wrapped around his shoulders, moving to play with his hair as soon as the kiss turned more heated.

moaning against him, he pulled away for a second, still keeping his lips entirely too close to your own as he breathed through his nose to calm himself down. the following kiss was even more harrowing, causing you to take a step back due to the sheer force of it. he walked you back, pressing you up against the nearest wall as he took advantage of being able to crowd you, allowing his hands to get a feel of your body as you kissed.

despite how pathetically you followed his lips, he still pulled away, throwing his shirt off before going back to kissing you, letting his hands wander underneath your own shirt as he did so. his hands dug deep under your shirt, feeling up your bare breasts and groaning at the lack of bra.

gradually, his lips made their way to your ear and then down your neck, murmuring against your skin.

"fuck, so fucking pretty ... and so needy for me, huh? sound so good moaning for me like that," he breathed against you.

you burned up, embarrassed by how easily he had an effect on you, but you still let him do whatever he wanted, knowing that nothing you did would prevent your body from wanting his touch.

throwing off your shirt, his lips trailed down even further south, latching onto your nipples and groaning into your skin at the way you arched your body, pressing up even closer to him.

but suddenly there was a shift.

jungkook halted his movements, making his way back up to your lips and locking them with his own in a heavy and greedy kiss, resulting in a lack of breath from both of you. against your lips, he whispered something that made your knees buckle.

"i'm gonna pay you back for all those times you were mean to me, baby," his lips moved to your ear, chuckling at your anticipatory shudder, "gonna do whatever i want with this pretty body, yeah?"

nodding pathetically, you gave way for him to do anything he wanted. already drenched, there was no way you could possibly formulate any words that didn't come out as an embarrassing whine. he seemed to enjoy this too, holding a pleased smirk in his face as he easily dragged you over to the bed, pushing off your suitcase and dropping you on it with a bounce.

before you could even think, jungkook had already thrown off his shoes and undone his pants, his hands coming to do the same to you. your shaky hands attempted to help him, but he simply tsk'd at you, letting you know that he'd take care of everything tonight. everything, he emphasized.

"oh, fuck," he groaned once you were fully nude, "this is all mine now, yeah? fuck, been waiting for years for you to stop being a brat and let me have this pretty body all to myself," he kissed your lips between each sentence, "might lose control at how gorgeous and mine it is ..." he murmured as his hands took their rightful place exploring your body.

"kook-" you whined, already wanting him to do something – anything.

"shh, baby," he coo'd, "i'm gonna do whatever i want. and you're gonna take it like a good girl, okay? gonna behave for me for once."

fully crawling on top of you, jungkook went back to making out with you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he began humping against your already soaked cunt.

groaning, he pulled away for a second in favor of nibbling softly at your lip, "oh, this pretty pussy's so fucking soaked already ... thought you hated me, baby, what happened?" he chuckled darkly, giving you no room to answer before shoving his tongue in your mouth.

just as his tongue attempted to suck all air out of you, his hand suddenly snuck between your bodies, finding your cunt with ease and beginning to drag his fingers up and down your folds, not giving you want you needed.

"pretty fucking pussy," he murmured, "gonna play with your clit now, baby. it's gonna cry for me by the time im done."

his fingers found your clit almost immediately, taking turns in rubbing teasing circles over it and hammering in and out of your cunt. he swallowed every single moan, groaning against your lips any time your cries went so high they went straight to his cock.

"that good, pretty? so good that you have to cry for more? oh, baby. you're so lucky this pussy's so fucking cute. lucky i cant control myself around you ..."

"f-faster, please ..."

"faster? oh, like this?", his fingers slowed down drastically, barely stimulating you at all as you cried and clawed at his back, whining for more than he seemed willing to give you.

"n-no! please, just- just wanna cum, kookie. please?"

his fingers curled entirely too well at your cry of his nickname, even making him groan when he felt your own reaction to his fingers. it was clear he liked you crying out for him, so the more you did it, the more of his fingers he gave you, leading you to the verge of an orgasm.

afraid he'd try and deny you just for sadistic means, you cried for him prematurely, begging him to let you cum.

"kookie, p-please, please let me cum, i-i'll do anything. i'll give you anything, just, fuck, please!"

there was not a single care in you about how pathetic and out of character you sounded, not when jungkook's wasnt faring any better at the effect your desperation had on him.

"cum. cum for me, baby. wanna feel that cunt cream around my fingers so i can fill it back up with my own, okay? be good for me and- fuck, and cum ..." as much as he wanted to be in charge and show a dominant side to him, your cunt just kept dragging his fingers back in, making him feel a carnal need to steal your orgasm all for himself and many others after this one.

your hand wrapped around his free wrist, needing it as support as an otherworldly orgasm took over you. back arching and eyes rolling back, you became a sight that jungkook had only ever seen in his most depraved of dreams about you. he was surprised at his cock not bursting upon such an arousing view, making him realize that he needed to fuck you as soon as posible before losing his mind.

despite talking you through your orgasm, jungkook still gave you no time to recover before shoving his tongue in your mouth and grabbing his dick to drag up and down your sensitive folds.

crying against him, you attempted to push him away at first, feeling too sensitive for immediate stimulation, but your body gave up quickly after, melting into the overload of pleasure. tears crowded in your eyes, but your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, needing more of that pressure against your cunt.

taking the hint and far too horny to drag this out any longer, he pushed inside you, groaning against you at the feeling of finally being wrapped around your warmth.

"it's so fucking wet ... oh, fuck. you wanted this so bad, didnt you, baby? fucking soaked and just pulling me in ... it's so- so tight n warm n perfect for me," he babbled, lost in pleasure.

jungkook's hips were restless against yours, an insatiable desire to chase for his pleasure taking over him as the sound of skin slapping made him dizzy. the occasional babble accompanied by a pitiful hiccup that came out of you did not help his situation, making him fear that he might cum before you.

"let- let me just get my finger there- yeah, fuck. just gonna rub that tiny little clit, okay? shit, you just tightened around my cock so fucking good ..." he groaned, thumb circling your clit to accelerate your orgasm.

"g-gonna, fuck, gonna cum ... p-please ... with me? cum with me?" you begged, barely able to get a single coherent word out while jungkook showed no mercy against you.

nodding, he kissed you, promising he'd cum – begging you to cum. counting you down, he whispered against your ear while his hips stuttered messily against your own, now completely overtaken by both yours and his orgasm.

the sounds shared between the two of you were nothing short of shameful, consisting of whines and cries filled with desperation. it was a depraved scene only meant for the two of you to enjoy.

pulling out of you proved to be a challenge, as jungkook would happily remained inside you until his last breath, but the thought of holding you innocently in his arms as you caught your breath was something he did not want to miss out on.

and so he held you against him, crowding your face against his chest so you could lay your head right by his heart.

"that was-"

"yeah," he breathed with a chuckle before turning to you with a boyish smile on his face, "i have a confession to make."

you turned around too, unable to not match his smile, "what is it?"

"i lied earlier. i, uh, i did like you when you were seventeen, but ... i kinda still like you."

it was impossible not to feel your face warm up at this, scrunching up your nose at how cutely he had confessed, "what if i said it was mutual?"

his smile somehow got bigger at that, "then i'd say i'm gonna have to steal you away from my sister," he pulled you into his chest again, enjoying the vibrations of your laugh.

a/n: this was rushed and not proofread sorry</3

[narcjsistx]

𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐇𝐂𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 | sae, shidou, rin (part two)

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

— sae itoshi

✶ Sae seems like someone who actually likes to wear bracelets, rings or necklaces, but can't wear them often due to the matchs he plays, where he would risk breaking them. going back to the basic concept, his gifts would probably be matching jewelry, especially rings... so, in case you were someone who wears them and rarely takes them off, he would try to do the same thing. during matches he would hang the ring on a string that he would put in his pocket or around his neck, kissing it before starting the match or squeezing it after scoring a goal

✶ I don't know exactly why, but beyond the canonical fetish for the ass, I see him as someone who would aim to have a partner with well groomed hands, like nails with polish, smooth and without calluses. he's not a big fan of PDA, the only thing he would do is hold your hand and occasionally leave a prying kiss on the back. in private he is certainly more open, and one thing he loves is massaging his partner's hand; it's a gesture he now makes almost unconsciously

✶ Sae didn't have instagram until he met you, you practically forced him to create an account! he resisted his manager telling him to do the same for a long time, but for you it was only enough once. he just put a profile photo, you had to do it for him the bio and some highlights, about past or future matches. a few days later you opened instagram and noticed that his account had a highlights that you hadn't created, entitled "her": you opened it and there were some photos of you, the ones that Sae considered most important (even if he loves them all). needless to say, your heart was about to explode

what would he post on socials ↓

✶ as a child he may have thought about it a bit, but after joining ReAl he didn't have the time to think about it again. he wouldn't mind having a family sooner or later, but probably after winning the U-20 world cup. two children would be fine, possibly a boy and a girl. he just knows that in some way his children would remind him of him and Rin as lil kids

✶ jealosy level: 5/10

✶ flirtiness level: 7/10 (let's specify, ABSOLUTELY NOT in public, but in private maybe he would indulge in some jokes)

✶ pet names: "amor" / "y/n" / "pretty"

—————————————

— ryusei shidou

✶ even if it doesn't seem like it, Shidou is relatively a normal person as a boyfriend... is there a concept of personal space? not that, but otherwise it's normal. the only "flaw" he may have is that he must CONSTANTLY have his hand touching you when you're together, whether it's a hand on your thigh or an arm around your shoulders: he simply needs to feel you. PDA is no big deal for him: he want to kiss you in front of everyone? he will do it, whatever the cost. if you say he can kiss you after winning a game and it's live nationally, why can't he do it in front of his group of homies?

✶ Shidou seems like someone actually very deep, or at least that seems to be described in some parts of his character sheet. Late night chats are literally the level of mental intimacy he hopes to achieve with his partner... he's someone who doesn't sleep much, so he has a lot of energy and hardly gets tired even after hours of talking. You and him tightly hugging on his bed, lights off and just everything that goes through your head... doesn't everything seem perfect?

✶ you know very well that every time he has a match he makes comments that, let's say, put him in a "bad light", or in any case make him seem less interested in you. before being with you he didn't mind saying things like that on the field, and more or less the same thing has remained since you got together as a couple... BUT THERE IS A BUT! every time, once the game is over and above all won, he makes sure to run to you before even celebrating with his teammates: whether you are in the VIP area or not, he will come to you to kiss you with all the passion he has. let's say he uses his method to reconfirm to the people that he is happily taken

what would he post on socials ↓

✶ GET MARRIED AND HAVE MANY CHILDREN AS POSSIBLE? YEAAAAH. no okay maybe not like that, but on the issue of children he doesn't lie... certainly with the career as a striker he has, he has no problems with money, and therefore with maintaining kids. let's say that for marriage it's different... he doesn't find any sense in it, in reality, he only sees it as something superficial: if he loves you and you know it, why have such a ceremony?. so let's say it's 50/50: he would do it if you asked him but at the same time he wouldn't mind not being married

✶ jealosy level: 1/10 (he trusts you too much to even think about it)

✶ flirtiness level: 10/10

✶ pet names: "doll" / "darling" / "love"

—————————————

— rin itoshi

✶ Rin hides under his serious and calculating gaze a boy who simply needs to vent after everything that happened with his older brother. Before being together as a couple he would never have expected to be able to cry in front of someone, but with you it was all quite natural: it took months and a lot of patience to show him that you really cared about him and that you wanted him to feel comfortable with you, but in the end he let himself go and was finally able to tell someone what not even he himself could explain. he'll never admit it but he believes that was the moment he realized how important you really were to him, and how much he simply wanted someone who could understand him

✶ He has a sort of fetish for seeing you in his clothes: it doesn't matter if the clothes are tight, big or the right size, just seeing you in that black sweatshirt of his or in his PxG uniform is enough to send him into crisis. he can't even explain to you why he likes it so much, but the fact that you're wearing something that smells like him is definitely a valid reason. you once surprised him by showing up at one of his matches wearing a jacket with "rin" written on the back, and we can say that he appreciated it to the point of having to prove it to you in some way: that time the match ended 9-0, goal all marked by him

✶ He may be one of the best if not the best, but after finishing the practice he simply needs to rest with you next to him, even more so if the coach was more unpleasant than usual or he simply did a lot of things wrong due to distraction (which is impossible considering it's Rin). Whether on the couch after cleaning himself or in the shower, while you rub shampoo into his hair it doesn't matter, he just needs to feel your presence

what would he post on socials ↓

✶ as a child he often saw other children playing at being married, but he was never actually interested, also because on the one hand it disgusted him to think of having to be tied to a person forever and kiss them on the mouth. as he's grown up he's changed his opinion, he's definitely the marriageable type and he'd actually like to get married as soon as possible: what's the point in leaving you legally free if you've stolen his heart?. let's say that he has a fairly positive opinion about children, he just knows that they arrive after a certain amount of time after marriage: he would like to have two girls... growing up as one of two brothers, both boys, he knows how boys are more problematic than girls

✶ jealosy level: 6/10

✶ flirtiness level: 3/10

✶ pet names: "y/n" / "love"

[sweetbans29]

Spoken For - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin may be a little too discreet when it comes to your relationship - Based on THIS request

Warnings: hidden relationship, slight angst

Word Count: 3.7k

Challenge Me (Spoken For Part 2)

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: GAH this is such a cute idea - I hope you all enjoy! Let me know what you think in the comments.

You met Caitlin in middle school. Both of you played club basketball and were always at the same tournaments. Your teams faced off pretty often and you got to know how she played. It made it even more interesting when your coach had you guard her frequently - learning how she was almost unstoppable. The two of you talked here and there, mostly about basketball whenever you did see each other and were in a space where conversation was required.

It wasn't until eighth grade that things sort of took a turn. It was at a tournament that both of your teams had to travel to. When you got there, your team went to watch Caitlin's play - seeing how they were doing before you had to take them on yourselves.

While you were watching them - you noticed Caitlin looking over at you semi-frequently. At first, you thought nothing of it, but as she kept doing it you started to give her little nods. When the game ended and they were dismissed for a rest break, you saw her walk up in your direction.

"Hey CC," you say as you greet her.

She comes up and gives you a half hug - something that wasn’t super common for the two of you.

“You ready to go down?” She says with a little smirk and gets up in your space.

“In your dreams,” you say with a laugh and give her shoulder a little push. “I think the question is, can you put up with losing to me again?” You say as you stare her down - not willing to be the first to step down from a verbal smackdown.

The last time your two teams went up against each other it was absolute carnage. There were times when both of your coaches had to pull you from the game to not get ejected by the refs. Each of your coaches knows how competitive each of you is - knowing losing is not an option. But to you and Caitlin, it was genuinely all fun. It was rare to have someone be as competitive as the two of you and when you face off - it is one of the most captivating games to watch.

“The only reason your team won last time was because Coach pulled me in the last quarter so he wouldn't lose me for the rest of the tournament. You won't be as lucky this time," she says and you just shake your head with a little laugh. Both of your teams are now moving on to their next destinations. She begins to walk past you but doesn't leave without saying, "Plus, my dreams about you are much different." You question if you heard her right, you look up at her and start to feel the blush creep into your cheeks. She gives you a wink as she follows her team, leaving you there flustered.

The rest of that tournament is filled with stolen glances and a little too-aggressive plays. Nothing to get either of you tossed from the game but enough to keep the two of your bodies close enough to keep the electricity running through your veins. Playing against her this time was different. She never went easy on you but there was a different energy that both of you were aware of. It didn't help that you couldn't get what she said out of your head. Was she just messing around and making a joke or was there more behind what she said?

In your final game against her team, you noticed there was a bigger shift in your relationship with Caitlin. During the second quarter, you got fouled pretty bad by a girl on her team and you fell, getting the wind knocked out of you. It took you a second before you were able to get up - you waved off your coach and really anyone who was trying to help you up. You just needed a second to refill your lungs. Once you were back, Cait pushed her way through your team and was the one who insisted on helping you up once you were ready. She grabbed your hand to help you up and then patted you on the shoulder, making sure you were alright. You give her a nod and the game continues. Throughout the rest of the game, Caitlin would keep brushing your hand. At first, you didn't think much of it as it happens often when you are playing defense. But kept happening. And then it changed. After you have been on her defense and she just put up a three. The crowd cheered and you both headed back, you running to offense and her to defense when you feel it. Your hands touch briefly and when they do, her pinky hooks with yours - only for a second, but long enough to know that it happened.

The two of you started talking outside of seeing each other at tournaments. It began with texting about basketball or sending each other the occasional snap of each of you dying after practice, saying something along the lines of the other going down. Before you knew it, you two were texting or talking every day and some days even all day.

You found out that the two of you had a lot in common outside of basketball. Granted, a lot of the time you talked, it was about basketball.

It was a few weeks before summer that the two of you found out you would be going to the same high school, meaning you would be playing on the same team for the first time in either of your basketball careers. It was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time.

During your high school years, you grow close to Caitlin. The two of you become best friends on the first day of freshman year. It wasn't surprising to you since you spent the better half of the last 6 months talking nonstop. When practices started, the two of you became inseparable. From then on, you did everything together.

It was the summer before sophomore year that you two decided being friends wasn't enough. It happened on a random Tuesday night when you brought up that one tournament that was the starting point of your friendship. Caitlin came clean and told you she had been crushing on you hard since the tournament where you both almost got ejected in the same game. It was a total surprise to you but you would be lying to say you weren't feeling the same way. Except for you, it was the tournament where your hands kept touching.

The two of you established your relationship before heading into sophomore year. You decided it would be best to keep your relationship just between the two of you, not wanting it to interfere with the two of you being on the same team.

It was junior year when both of you were signed to play D1 basketball. Caitlin at the University of Iowa and you at UConn. It was both an exciting time and a sad one. Your schools weren't close at all but you both knew you didn't want to separate when you left - you were it for one another.

It was the winter break of your senior year when the two of you went to the courthouse. Both of your parents were there, along with Caitlin's brothers. It was at Thanksgiving that you told both of your parents you wanted to get married. They tried talking the two of you out of it but neither of you budged. Neither you nor Caitlin had any doubts that this wasn't what you wanted. The two of you knew you wanted to to spend the rest of your lives together - even if that meant being a part for a few years to live out both of your dreams. Even at the courthouse, your parents were still hesitant but they let the two of you get married.

The summer after senior year of high school held some of the best days and hardest days you have ever had. Caitlin and you were finally able to take a mini honeymoon to the East Coast, spending your days on the beach. Shortly after, you were both called off to your respective schools - going back to being competitors on the court instead of teammates. The goodbye was one of the hardest things you have ever had to endure, Caitlin as well.

Before you left, you both decided to keep your marriage just between the two of you. Neither of you wanted/needed the backlash of it going into this next chapter and you both knew the other was there regardless of the distance between you.

Starting college was a pretty easy transition for both of you - the hardest part was being away from one another. You talked daily, usually calling at night or early in the morning. And every break you had was spent at home with one another. Every school break, long weekend, and break in practice had you two visiting one another.

It wasn't until a certain practice that Caitlin started to question if keeping you to herself was going to be possible for much longer.

"Hey Caitlin, I have this friend who has had an eye out for you since the season started." One of her teammates mentions while they are stretching before a practice.

Caitlin laughs and says, "Okay...and?"

"I want to set you guys up on a date. Are you free this Friday?" She asks. The other girls around them encourage Cait to get out there. She has been the only person on the team who hasn't taken any interest in relationships.

"I am not going," Caitlin says. No explanation, no reason. Just a no.

"Why not? It could be really fun! It would benefit you to loosen up a little bit," her teammate says.

Just as Caitlin is about to respond, they are called to start drills.

Practice goes well, and they are feeling good about their upcoming game. The girls make their way to the locker room and are all packing up when the topic is brought up again.

"So...Friday," Cait's teammate brings it back around to get her out of the house on a Friday night.

"What about it?" Cait says with a little laugh.

"Will you go?" She asks. "On the blind date?"

"I am not going on a date on Friday," Caitlin says again. She grabs her bag and is ready to head home for the night to call you. She thinks you will find it quite entertaining that her team is trying to get her to go out.

"Well just think about it and we can revisit the topic tomorrow."

Caitlin states again that she is not going but instead of fighting her teammate on it now, she would rather be at home talking to you.

On her walk home, she calls you.

"Hey babe," you say when you answer your phone, wedging it between your shoulder and your ear. Your hands preoccupied with folding laundry.

"Hi," she says and takes a deep sigh. "I miss you."

"I miss you." You respond and take your phone in your hand again. You are sitting on the floor of your apartment with two piles of laundry taunting you. You sit back, leaning against your couch, and bring your knees up to your chest. "I miss you more than you can imagine. What is it another 3 weeks before we get to see each other?"

"Not soon enough," Caitlin says, chest squeezing a little tighter hearing how much you miss her.

The two of you knew this was going to be hard, but it was so much harder than either of you imagined. Going from being with each other every day of the week to every other month, if you're lucky, has taken a toll on your marriage.

"I have sort of a funny story to tell you," Cait continues, nervous all of the sudden.

"And what is that babe?" You ask, hearing a shift in her tone. You think it is the cutest when she gets nervous around you. She never gets nervous around anyone.

"My teammates are trying to set me up on a date this Friday," she says, not knowing how you are going to react. You are a little shocked but also find it kind of comical. Not that Caitlin wasn't dateable, you knew first hand she was. It was the fact that she never showed any sort of interest in anyone but you.

"Sounds like junior year of high school all over again." You say with a little laugh.

Caitlin's memory takes her back to junior year when the team kept bugging her about turning down Sam Anderson's prom proposal.

"I completely forgot about that! The team wouldn't drop it!" Caitlin says, a smile on her face as she laughs about the old memory.

"Well duh they wouldn't drop it, he was the hottest guy in our class," you say with a little laugh of your own.

"Hey!" She says offended that you just called someone other than her hot.

"Babe, you know I am yours," you say full-on laughing now.

"I can't believe you just called Sam Anderson hot. I will never forget that," Cait says.

"Ya, ya, ya. I am more interested in who they are trying to set you up with on Friday," you say. No jealousy, just pure interest.

"I have no idea," Caitlin says with a little puff. "I just wish people would stay out of my love life, it is doing just fine."

This causes a little sink in your heart. You know everything is fine between the two of you. But the adjustment has you both feeling like a piece of you is missing.

"I know babe, but it is a sweet thing. Your team wants to see you happy and part of that is being with someone." You say, knowing there is nothing you could do to make this any better.

"I am happy! I am happily married! I have all that I need and I don't need anyone digging into that." She says frustrated.

"Hey, Caitlin it's okay baby," you say trying to calm her. "You don't have to go - just tell them that you are busy."

"They are just going to keep pushing, it was brought up three times in 2 hours. They aren't just going to drop it." Caitlin fights back.

"Then tell them you are married!" You say. This wasn't part of the plan but hearing how frustrated Cait was, your firs thought was to screw the plan.

"No, that's not part of the plan. It hasn't even been a full year! We are sticking to the plan and that's final!" Caitlin yells. She doesn't know why she is yelling.

"Then go on the date!" You yell back. Frustration now seeping out of you. You feel a tear make its way down your cheek.

Caitlin doesn't know what to say - never in a million years would she imagine hearing you say to go out with someone. Nobody came close to you in her eyes. That is when she realized how much this was all taking a toll on you. Not just in this instance but when it happened in high school. Whenever someone made a comment about how amazing Caitlin is and how she is going to make so many heads turn. All the talk was always about her and never about you.

"Babe, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so worked up," she says just above a whisper. Caitlin hates that she let this all get to her, so much so that it was her doing that had you sitting on your floor crying.

You sniffle and bring your hand to your head. You don't know what to say. You didn't mean it when you told her she should go on the date, it came out in frustration and you instantly regretted it.

"I know," you choke out. "Hey Cait, I need to go," you say still sniffling. "I need to finish some things before heading to bed."

"No wait, I don't want you to go in this state," she says in a little bit of a panic. "Just stay on the line with me and we can talk about something else - I don't want us to end today like this." It was a little last-ditch plea.

"I'm tired Cait, we can talk tomorrow. I love you," you say, tears streaming down your face.

Caitlin hates this.

"I love you," she says and hears you hang up.

You don't mean to be this curt with Caitlin. You have been under a lot of stress as of late between schoolwork and basketball and not having her with you kept you on constant edge. Talking to her every day has helped but you missed her presence, having her near. The calm that she brought you is one that you haven't felt since both of you went off to uni.

The next day rolls around and Caitlin's teammate texts her about setting her up. Caitlin ignores it and gets going with her day.

The two of you talk that morning - both apologizing for how the conversation the night before went. You both decide to take a quick weekend trip and meet in the middle for the weekend, knowing you both need time with each other, even it if is less than 48 hours.

Just knowing you are going to be in Caitlin's arms soon is enough to give you a push through the week.

Caitlin on the other hand is itching to see you. She begins to count down the hours until she is back with you.

When she arrives to practice, she jumps right in as if it will make time move faster.

During practice, the team takes a quick water break.

"Hey Caitlin, have you thought about Friday?" Her teammate asks. "I told them about you and they are looking forward to getting to know you."

"I told you I am not going," Caitlin says. Not this again. "Plus I am not going to be here this weekend."

"Okay well then Thursday would work," her teammate says clearly not dropping the topic.

"How many times do I have to tell you I am not going?" Caitlin says in disbelief that her team is pushing this so hard.

Another one of her teammates speaks up, "We just want to see you happy, you seem so tense all the time."

"Trust me, I am fine. I'll be better after this weekend," Caitlin says as she thinks about spending it with you.

"Just a few hours, it won't hurt anyone," they continue to pry.

Caitlin gets fed up with them all trying to force this on her when she has made it clear she is not going. Even if they got her to go on this date, she knew they wouldn't stop until she started seeing someone.

It is at this moment that the plan of you two waiting until after college to reveal your marriage flies out the window.

"I am not going on the date because I am not a cheater!" Caitlin practically yells and sits down. Everyone just looks at her with confusion.

Caitlin, with her face in her hands, brings something out from her shirt. It is the chain of her necklace. Everyone knew she wore a necklace but no one knew what was hanging at the end since it was always tucked away in her shirt. She finds the end and pulls out a ring. It is the ring you exchanged in the courtroom that one beautiful winter afternoon.

She takes out the ring and places it on her ring finger, which causes even more confused looks from all of those around her.

"I am not going on that date because I am married," she says and all the girls go crazy. All of them in unbelief of this plot twist their friend and teammate were holding from them.

They pull her up and start pushing her around in excitement that their friend is not only seeing someone but is MARRIED.

"This is actually insane!" One girl says. Caitlin hears things like 'There is no way', 'How has she kept it a secret for this long', and 'When were you married, we are so young'.

The one thing going through Caitlin's mind is how she is going to explain this to you. Her beloved plan - poof, gone just like that.

All the girls are too excited to get back to practice but somehow manage to get through it.

Before she knows it, Caitlin is on a plane heading to Colomub, OH. The two of you planned it so you would arrive within half an hour of each other. Her being the first to arrive.

When she lands, she checks the arrival board and begins to make her way to where your plan gets in. She walks up just as they open the door.

Your plane starts to de-board and you grab your overnight bag. As you make your way off the plane you look at your phone to see if there is any update from Caitlin. You have no notifications from her, just your coach about everyone's home workouts for the weekend.

As you get off the plane you begin to look around to see which way you need to go when you see your favorite person in the world, standing there, waiting for you.

You immediately run up to her and jump into her arms, dropping your bags in the process.

She squeezes you so tightly, that it is hard to breathe. Not that you care.

"Caitlin," you say as you inhale her scent. Missing her was an understatement.

"Hi baby," she says as she finally puts you down. You grab your bag and take her hand. When you look down at your fingers intertwined.

"Babe, you're wearing your ring!" You say in surprise.

"Well, I may or may not have told the team that I have a wife and have been married since high school..." she says hoping there would have been at least some time for them to just be together before she had to tell you that her plan is no longer the plan. She prepares for you to rip her a new one.

When you don't immediately react, she looks over at you.

You just squeeze her hand and lean into her.

"So much for your precious plan," you say with a little laugh as the two of you walk out of the airport.

AN: Thank you for this fun request! Let me know what you think! And as always, thanks for your love and support 🤍

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (2)

Summary: Terry and Treece are feeling the sparks again.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,659

Part: 2 of ??

Warnings: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.

Previous

Grocery shopping was Patrice's private pastime. She was the queen of her universe when she walked through aisles every Saturday morning. Every flash bargain and value-sized item bent to her will for a chance at making it to her humble abode and fulfilling its one purpose in life. Employees greeted her like royalty. Customers started conversations like old friends, always giving her the scoop on any sale they'd overheard in their neighborhood Facebook groups. She was happy. She was zen. She was in her element.

"Do you need this?" 

She was a woman dragging around a large man intent on breaking any modicum of concentration she had left.

Patrice stopped and looked over her shoulder at Terry, who held a bag of cotton candy grapes up in the air for her inspection. "No, TJ. Put it down." 

"Why? You like grapes." 

"Because we're getting grapes from the farmer's market. Now, put it back."

Her rebuke was sweet but stern. Having him as a way too familiar roommate was becoming easier as the days passed. But she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss the freedom to go for a walk, watch a movie on the couch, or even enjoy an intimate moment alone in her own house without a man looming somewhere in the very near background. 

He didn't allow her to travel alone, and she never had the energy to protest. 

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm a kid," he grumbled as he put the grapes back in their place.

"Then stop acting like one. I have a list. I know what I need." 

"I know what I need." He exaggerated his mimicry for maximum effect. 

"You see how that was childish?" 

"Whatever." 

Patrice ignored him in favor of browsing packages of beef for the best deal. If she didn't respond, maybe he would get the hint. And, for a few moments, he did. Terry took a break in conversation to scan the immediate area quietly. He noted each patron and their most important details before checking the exit and entry points at the front of the store. They weren't secure enough, but he could manage if the situation required evacuation.

A lack of action soon turned his attention back to Patrice, who still hadn't decided. He gave her a slow once over and smiled at how much focus she put into such a simple choice. Her brow remained furrowed in intense thought, transforming her into the ninth-grade Patrice he met during a chance encounter in the library. Truthfully, he didn't have much of an opinion either way. He just wanted to talk to her every second of the day, even if it meant being annoying. 

"Get that one." 

His sudden interruption startled Patrice out of her zone, adding a final straw to an already exhausted camel's back. Terry grinned in triumph as she closed her eyes for a calming breath. 

"Terry," she spoke, slow and measured to keep the peace. "Take the other half of this list and get out of my face. Don't come back until you find everything. I'll meet you at the register." 

She didn't give him much time to protest before she shoved a carefully torn half of paper into his chest and sent him on his way. He gave her a sarcastic salute, which she waved off without a second look. She needed a moment alone and didn't care if he came back with Fruity O's instead of Fruit Loops if that meant he would be out of her hair for more than 10 minutes. 

Terry found himself slowly meandering around the grocery store with a tiny basket in tow, exhausted by all the options on each aisle. If Patrice hadn't been so meticulous with her lists, he would've given up on the mission and gone back to home base with his tail tucked between his legs. 

After sourcing the perfect pint of Oreo ice cream as an apology for his behavior, Terry found himself drawn to the sound of laughter on the next aisle. Sure enough, Patrice was parked by the frozen vegetables and engaged with a man dressed in the store's colors with his eyes directed far too low to be looking at Patrice's face. 

Terry quickly reached her location, stopping behind Patrice to show her guest the full extent of his scowl. 

Patrice noticed how his once loose body language had gone stiff and sighed. She didn't need to investigate the problem. Only her human pitbull could make a man cower in fear like that. 

"Derrick, this is Terry. Terry, this is Derrick. He usually helps me get stuff to my car." 

"Ah, man. It's a good thing I'm here, right? We don't need you taking too many breaks from stocking. Mornin' rush can get crazy." 

"Terry," Patrice admonished with a harsh whisper and an elbow to his stomach. 

Terry remained steadfast, keeping his eyes on Derrick while taking one step closer. A taunting smile tugged on the right side of his mouth. He waited on any sign of fight from his unspoken adversary. 

Derrick stood in palpable discomfort, sizing up the outcomes if he decided to test his luck. Each mental scenario led him back to some instance of physical harm on his last shift of the week. He had plans for the weekend, none involving a trip to the emergency room.

Patrice stood between a rock and a hardheaded man, praying that the Lord would end her suffering.

"That's what I was about to say," Derrick answered before shifting his attention back to Patrice. "I think I oughta get going. See you around, Ms. Ellis?" 

"Same time next week." 

He nodded in half-hearted agreement and hurried out of dodge, with Terry keeping a watchful eye until he was safely around the corner. 

Patrice groaned with one hand, rubbing tight circles at her temple. "What in the hell was that about?" 

"He wouldn't even look you in the eye. If he can't look you in the eye when he's speaking, he can't protect you, and he doesn't respect you." 

"I'm not looking for his protection. I need this water loaded into my trunk every week when you aren't here!" 

"I'll never not be here. Problem solved."

His declaration was so sure, so matter of fact, that it left Patrice no room for retort. So she resorted to schoolyard antics. 

It was her turn to mock him with an exaggerated, deep voice. "Problem solved. Push the damn cart since you got so much energy." 

He obliged without protest and a proud, self-satisfied grin that Patrice couldn't see while she led the way to the register. An unexpected system error had halted all transactions, leaving them log jammed in a long line of restless customers. 

Together, they stood sharing light banter and running through weekend tasks, resembling any other couple making a store run to strangers observing them from the outside looking in. Former acquaintances, however, had no problem drawing attention to the pair from three spots back in line. 

"I know that ain't who I think it is." Both Patrice's and Terry's eyes darted up to find the source of the loud outburst, only to whisper 'fuck’ in tandem when they spotted Katrina Spivey waving her arms to grab their attention. "Hey, Terry Richmond!" 

Terry pretended to ignore being singled out by turning his back, earning a stifled laugh from Patrice. Katrina, not one to be deterred, used the moment to push past patrons in line until she reached her destination with a host of angry faces in her wake. 

"Well, if it ain't Mr. and Miss Homecoming in the flesh. You two finally stopped kidding around and got married?" 

"No," Terry answered without much explanation, his back still turned. Patrice reluctantly made up his slack. 

"What Terry meant to say was that we're not married. We're not together at all, actually. But he's here to visit me for a while." 

"What a blessing it is to have friends you can lean on when you need a helping hand."

"Amen."

An awkward tension settled into the conversation's lull, compounded by Terry's outright refusal to engage. Patrice was in deep water without a paddle and a co-captain who had already jumped ship.

Katrina wouldn't let the conversation end and take her newfound place in line. She continued to pry.

"Both of y'all look good! How long has it been since we last saw each other, huh? Gotta be since Terry's graduation send-off." 

Patrice feigned interest with a hollow smile. "Yeah, I think that was it. A looong time ago. All grown up now."

"And thank God for it! I remember how sad you looked all night because ol' Terry was moving away. Like a little crying puppy!" 

Katrina's laughter didn't quite reach Terry or Patrice, who bristled at mentioning one of the more contentious nights in their friendship. 

"Everybody's been a little young and dumb, right? Like when you and BJ got caught underneath the bleachers during state championships." 

Checkmate. A little reminder of her indiscretions had turned Katrina's condescending smile into a mean mug that could burn through anyone not equally as stubborn. 

Terry showed his approval with a light nudge against Patrice's arm. That was his girl. Sweet as pie but a tongue coated in venom when backed against the wall. He'd been on the receiving end on one too many occasions. It felt good to be on the winning side this time. 

Three seconds of a Western standoff had culminated in a gift sent via store intercom. 

"Apologies for the stoppage, folks. Our registers are back up and running. Thanks for your patience." 

Terry moved the cart to place items on the conveyor belt while Patrice waited for the conversation to resume.

Recovering from the sharp end of a verbal lashing, Katrina cleared her throat and grabbed hold of her cart in preparation to skip lines. 

"Well, I don't wanna hold y'all too much longer. If y'all don't think you're too good to mingle with us Francis High Hornets anymore, Corey's throwing a little Juneteenth gathering at his daddy's pool hall. This is my personal invite for the both of you."

"We were already invited. Maybe we'll make an appearance." 

"That'd be grand." 

"I bet it would."

Nice nasty smiles passed between the two foes until Katrina was off to harass some other unsuspecting patron. 

Patrice tried to let go of her frustration with an angry huff before turning to catch up with Terry, who was casually moving groceries from the bagging station to the shopping basket. He waited a moment before acknowledging the obvious. 

"You over it now, or do I need to iron a shirt for tonight?" 

"I'm over it," Patrice answered plainly. She calmly handed over payment for the day's groceries and smiled ever so sweetly to bid the cashier farewell. To an outsider, she'd returned to her zen state without much effort. Terry was no outsider and kept a cautious eye on her as they loaded bags into the trunk and got settled in the front seat of her SUV. 

"You sure you're good," he asked as he backed out of their parking space. 

"I'm sure, TJ," she answered with almost too much enthusiasm. Terry started a mental countdown for the other shoe to drop. "I'll iron the shirt. You need to shave." 

--------

The final verdict? A plain white T-shirt. 

An hour of searching, choosing, rejecting, and choosing again led them to a plain, crisp white tee. Patrice said it went better with her yellow wrap dress, which she chose because her girlfriends were all in dresses, and she wanted to match the occasion. It all sounded like made-up bullshit to Terry. Still, he accepted being treated like a Ken Doll because it meant that his Barbie would agree to a two-hour hard stop at the festivities. 

He'd already started his stopwatch when they pulled up on a busy street in front of an even busier hole in the wall.

The smell of fresh grease greeted them upon crossing the threshold from outside into Mister C's Bar and Lounge. Fried fish, French fries, and wings in any flavor you could ask for sat in the service window, waiting for their delivery to any one of the patrons packed from wall to cinderblock wall. Terry inhaled deeply and let his scowl drop for one second to fantasize about a bite of Corey Sr.'s signature catfish and fries basket. 

Next came the familiar mix of sweat and weed near the dancefloor as bodies intertwined to some GloRilla song neither of them recognized. Thick traffic in the center of the room paused Patrice on her path to the pool tables, locking her between Terry and a crowd that wouldn't budge. 

"Excuse me!" she shouted over a swell of crowd reaction to a new song. "I need to get by!" 

No response. Not even a look back as she used a hand to create space between her and a group of men debating nonsense. Before she could try again, Terry used one hand to push her forward and his voice to clear the way. 

"Yo, step out of the way. We need to get through." Direct and to the point. He left no room for misinterpretation, and his baritone's boom left no confusion about who was calling the shots. Patrice watched with her lips slightly parted in awe. 

The first reaction to his demand was the embers of confrontation. Each member of the group sized Terry up, noticing his heavy scowl and size in comparison to their own. Then, they realized that this wasn't a winning game. 

The flashiest of the group nodded, though disdain at the mere suggestion that he was in the way kept his mouth in a tight frown. "Yeah, you good, OG. My fault." 

Another light push propelled Patrice forward as Terry maintained with each man until they had passed. 

Once they were out of the mix and nearing their destination, he advised, "Stay close." Patrice nodded her compliance, shocking Terry into a slight smile in appreciation for her obedience. 

Sparks of electricity shot between them but had no time to turn into a total current before Corey called out to them. 

"Treece! Terry! We over here!" 

Surrounded by familiar faces from Francis Edward's Class of 2010, Corey welcomed them with open arms and his ever-present 100-watt smile. At a slight 5'6", 150 on his best day, he'd always been larger than his frame would suggest. Loud and flamboyant had always been the name of his game, earning him anything he set his sights on.

It didn't take long for the trio and Corey's wife, June, to fall into familiar habits and friendly jabs at one another as they took their seats in a makeshift VIP section by the pool tables. The Three-Headed Monster was their moniker in high school, and they moved like a military force. Terry was the enforcer, while Corey and Patrice served as judge and prosecutor. If you had an issue with one, you had an issue with all three. 

"Your security is lax. Who trained them?" Terry pointed out during a dead spot in conversation. 

Corey followed his eyeline to the two young men standing at the door and back. "My boy at the sheriff's office. What you see?" 

"They look soft. It wouldn't take much to overpower them and get in for some drama. You only have one exit. Somebody breeches this place, and you're on the hook for a tragedy. Plus, the one on the left is scared. He'll be the first to leave if things get hot. Watch him."

"Impressive," June remarked, smiling at Patrice, who subtly playfully waved her off.

"Hm." Corey took a long pull from his cigar, taking in the information before responding." You here for a minute, T? I got some connections over at Liberty if you looking to get back in the swing of things." 

"Contract?" 

"Whatever you need, man. You know I'm good for it."

Terry looked over at Patrice for some indication that she believed in Corey, and she returned with a subtle nod and encouraging smile. June looked between them and then at her husband before clearing her throat. 

"It looks like Kel and his boy are back on the pool table. You know he still owes you a game from when he cheated last week." 

"Hell yeah," Corey agreed as he turned in his seat to get a look at his enemy. "Aye, T, you trynna make $100 real quick?" 

"It's either that or you gotta come dance with me," Patrice challenged. "This rum and pineapple got me feeling a little loose." 

She wasn't lying. A taste of alcohol in her system was starting to make her want to explore parts of the Patrice she thought she left at North Carolina A&T. Every heart-rattling thump of Megan Thee Stallion's latest and greatest had her thinking about reminding everyone in the room that she could move with the best of them. 

Her little grind in her seat made Terry show teeth in a small grin before he stood to his full height and looked down at her. His eyes were hooded and dreamy from some combination of exhaustion and a contact high, reintroducing that spark from before.

"Don't go too far. I'll be back with your money in a little bit." 

Patrice's tongue felt too heavy to respond coherently past a punch-drunk nod. June watched her watch him make his way down the platform and into the crowd until both men were out of earshot. 

She whistled and shook her head. "That's a good-looking man, ain't he?" 

"Who? Corey? He alright. He's like a slightly more attractive Taye Diggs." 

"First off, ouch," June laughed. "Second, I was talking about Terry. He was cute in high school, but I'll be damned if that second puberty didn't take him to a whole 'nother level." 

"Don't tell him that. His head is big enough."

"You know you wrong for that." If the music weren't so loud, everyone in the building would've heard the pair guffawing over Patrice's petty insult. 

Once they contained themselves, June took a sip from her margarita and shifted in her seat to get closer to Patrice.

"He likes you still." Five plain words shook Patrice internally as she struggled to maintain a poker face. June continued. "I see the way he looks for your approval and damn near trips on himself to fulfill your every whim. You're all he talks about when he and Corey get on the phone." 

"They talk?" 

"From time to time. I think he needs a man's opinion sometimes, you know?" 

Patrice wrestled with the influx of information as June continued. 

"That man is mean as a snake. Always has been and always will be. But, you bring something out of him. Even if you can't always see it." 

"If that were the case, things would've been different for us back then." 

June shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe you're right where you're supposed to be. I know I can't make you do what you don't wanna do, but if what I say means anything, focus on today. Thirty-two-year-old Terry is so much more prepared to love you than eighteen-year-old Terry was." 

Punctuating her advice, June tapped Patrice's leg twice before taking a step away to refill their tray of food. 

Focus on today.

The words replayed in her mind repeatedly; even after their two hours were up, Terry had returned $100 richer, and they were back on the road to their quiet slice of the world. 

They rode together in content quiet, letting the Quiet Storm host talk while Terry tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. 

Randomly, he would glance in her direction, assuming she had lost the sleep battle to her old friend Bacardi. When he reached over to adjust the air vent on her side of the car, he was surprised when she mumbled a low "thank you." 

"My bad. I thought you were sleeping." 

"No. My head is swimming, though. Don't let me drink that much anymore." she laughed. 

He chuckled along with her but didn't agree to keep her from letting her hair down occasionally. In his eyes, seeing her relaxed and carefree was a gift to the world. 

The opening notes of Tevin Campbell's "I'm Ready" swirled around them, sounding like a secret message to Patrice as she focused on streetlights to keep the contents of her dinner inside her stomach. 

"Hey," she whispered before she could catch herself. Terry acknowledged her with a glance. "Do you think you're still scared?" 

"Of what?" 

"Of whatever kept you away for so long?"

He thought for a moment, wanting to make sure he was clear with his word. "No. I was never afraid of you. I was afraid of bringing you along for a ride I might not survive. That's not a threat anymore. So, no, I'm not scared anymore."

You know I'm ready

To love you

Forever 

Patrice reached across the center console until she reached Terry's hand to interlock her fingers with his. He gave her an appreciative squeeze without taking his eyes off the road. 

"I-I don't think I'm scared anymore either."

Her heart raced wildly behind her ribs, and Patrice was that if Terry pressed his wrist close enough to hers, he could feel her pulse accelerate. He didn't mind either way. Sweaty palms and trembling fingers would never be enough for him to let her go. Not again. 

As if she'd break if he moved too fast, Terry brought her hand to his lips slowly. One kiss. Another. Two more. And a final one for good measure. 

When he'd had his fill of her skin, he pressed the spot up against his cheek. He needed to feel and absorb her until they were one body. 

But, for tonight at least, this was enough.

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse

[azzifudd]

i love it when we touch

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: Paige Bueckers is a very physically affectionate person.

rated: teen

1.9k words

disclaimer: fiction :)

[AO3 Link]

Paige Bueckers is a very physically affectionate person.

It’s the first thing Azzi noticed about Paige after they both made Team USA and started playing basketball with one another.

Azzi has always considered herself a pretty affectionate person, quick to give a high five to a teammate or a hug to her family. But Paige takes it to a whole other level, always the first one over to her during a timeout, giving her a pat on the butt and throwing a sweaty arm around her neck.

With almost anyone else, Azzi might be annoyed, but for some reason, she never seems to get tired of Paige. Not to say Paige isn’t annoying, she is, with her big mouth and near overconfidence. But beneath all that bravado, all Azzi sees is a sweet girl, with kind eyes and a good heart.

It’s that girl who Azzi wants to know. So she leans into every embrace, presses just a bit closer to Paige every time they’re next to each other on the bench. And tells herself that she isn’t imagining that Paige looks at her in a way that she doesn’t look at their other teammates.

Even though she knows it’s probably a bad idea, that after this tournament they might go their separate ways and never talk again, Azzi can’t fight it, and doesn't want to fight the butterflies that erupt in her stomach every time Paige is near.

She leans into it instead, that feeling that she’s teetering over the edge of the cliff, so close to falling, and jumps.

//

Azzi Fudd has very soft hands.

That’s the only thought in Paige’s mind as Azzi drags her through the small patch of trees toward the lake. They’d spent the whole day on the lake with Azzi’s family, only returning to her grandparents’ cabin for dinner.

Everyone else has settled around the fire, eager for s’mores and campfire stories as they wait for the sun to fully set. Paige had nearly sat down herself, tired after an afternoon of trying and failing to water ski, much to Azzi’s amusement. Paige couldn't find it in herself to be too embarrassed when Azzi giggled and wrapped her in a towel, keeping an arm around her as she helped to rub her dry.

Now, they finally break through the line of trees to find a small, almost rickety, pier tucked into a hidden edge of the lake.

“Woah.” Paige releases a breath at the sight.

“It’s nice, right? My grandma showed it to me last year.” Azzi takes a seat on the end of the pier, letting her feet dip into the water. “I come here when I wanna have some peace and quiet.”

“Are you sure you want me here?” Paige says, half joking. She knows her energy can be a lot, especially for Azzi who cherishes her calm.

“Of course I do.” Azzi says, simply, patting the seat next to her and calling Paige forward. “I always want you next to me.”

Paige plops down beside her, shocked at how casually Azzi can say something that can steal all the breath from Paige’s lungs. She wonders if Azzi feels the same spark when their pinkies brush together on the rough wooden surface.

Azzi leans back with a sigh, head thumping lightly against the pier. She stares up at the orange, pink sky, colored by a sun that’s nearly set.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Yeah.” Paige whispers, laying back as well, but when Azzi turns her head, she sees that Paige isn’t looking at the sky at all.

Her normally piercing blue eyes are soft as they run over Azzi’s face, lingering on her lips before she looks away, bashfully.

Azzi turns on her side, lifting a hand to run her gentle finger down the bridge of Paige’s nose.

“You’re sunburned.” Her hand drifts to Paige’s cheek, hovering for a moment before she goes to take it away.

Paige’s hand darts up to grasp Azzi’s wrist, pulling her hand to her lips and pressing a kiss to her palm. Azzi’s pulse hammers between her fingers.

Paige’s eyes find Azzi’s mouth again.

“Can I—“

“Yeah.” Azzi replies, eyes already slipping shut as she leans in and presses her lips to Paige’s. Her aim is slightly off and both their lips are chapped from being in the sun all day.

It’s perfect.

//

Paige Bueckers is a pest.

Azzi has known this since they met at Team USA tryouts. She’d seen this pale stringbean and dismissed her as a threat before quickly being proven wrong.

Paige was probably the best player there, besides her, of course. Offensively, she was able to do anything she wanted, whether it was get to the rim, or nail a jump shot with a hand in her face. Which made it even more impressive that she preferred to pass, and she seemed to love to pass to Azzi. And Azzi had never had this instant on court chemistry with anyone else. It’s like they both knew where the other was on the court without even having to look.

But just because they played well together it didn’t mean that they didn’t love to compete against each other too. Even now, as they play two on two with a pair of little girls, Paige is talking trash and trying way too hard on defense. She grins a little bashfully when she bats one of the girl’s shots out of the paint and Azzi playfully glares at her.

Azzi casually stands in the paint, watching as her young teammate dribbles at the three point line. Paige presses up behind her, hand ghosting over her shoulder, then down her back. Her touch burns even through the material of Azzi’s t-shirt.

Paige leans into her hip, head over her shoulder, breath hot against her neck.

Azzi pushes back half-heartedly, not actually wanting Paige to pull away. “You know we’re on camera right now, don’t you?”

“I’m just playing good D.” Paige replies, snarkily, before moving to cut off the girl moving toward the rim.

One of the girls finally scores and they call it a game. Azzi says goodbye to the last of the campers who finally trickle out of the gym. She can feel Paige’s heated gaze from all the way across the room.

“Are you gonna help me clean up or are you just gonna sit there?”

Paige is sitting on the bleachers, leaned back with her elbows braced behind her and legs spread. She cocks her head with a smirk, beckoning Azzi to her.

Azzi rolls her eyes as she approaches, stopping right in front of Paige without touching her.

“Hey,” Paige murmurs, looking up at her, eyes big and tender as her hands graze the outside of Azzi’s thighs, her hips.

Azzi softens instantly. Paige’s touch never feels like less than worship.

Azzi leans down, linking her fingers behind Paige’s neck and pulling her into a kiss. She knows it’s risky for them to do this here, where anyone could walk in and see them, but she can’t bring herself to care as Paige deepens the kiss, drawing Azzi onto her lap, hands gripping her ass and squeezing.

They kiss for a few long moments, and Azzi loses herself in the slip of Paige’s tongue against hers and the way her shoulders flex when Azzi digs her nails into the back of her neck.

They’re interrupted by the sound of Azzi’s phone vibrating loudly against the bleacher beside them. It’s her mom.

“Where are you two?” She sounds clearly exasperated even over the phone. “We’re waiting for you at the restaurant.”

Azzi pulls back, ignoring Paige’s sound of disappointment when she dislodges her hands from where they’ve crept beneath her shirt.

“We’ll be there soon,” she replies. “Just got held up at the gym.”

“Hmm.” Her mom sounds unconvinced as they hang up.

“Held up, huh?” Paige looks up at her, eyebrow quirked.

“Shut up.” Azzi pushes her in the face. “You better hurry up and help me or else you won’t be doing any more ‘holding’ any time soon.”

Paige is on her feet in record time.

//

Azzi Fudd is not a jealous person.

And that’s what she tells Allie one night at Ted’s when the freshman asks her if she gets annoyed by how many women approach Paige.

Ice and KK burst into laughter at her response, but they shut up as soon as she shoots them a glare.

“I don’t get jealous!” Azzi protests. “Often.” She acquiesces when Ash cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at her.

“I mean everyone gets jealous sometimes right?” Sarah offers up.

“Exactly.” Azzi says, ignoring the snickering she hears. “Anyways, I don’t worry about that.”

She gestures to where Paige is at the bar, smiling politely as a line of mostly women approaches her for photos, gritting her teeth a little when an especially busty woman presses up close to Paige.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Fudd. Paige is crazy jealous too.” KK laughs. “Watch.”

She directs Allie to put her hand on Azzi’s arm. “Pretend to laugh at something Azzi says.”

Allie appears unsure, but she does as she’s told. Not even half a minute passes and suddenly Paige is back at the tableside, sliding in between Azzi and Allie. She puts Azzi’s drink on the table in front of her, subtly dislodging Allie’s hand.

“Here’s your drink, babe.”

When she steps back, she slips an arm behind Azzi, hand finding its place low on her back. She scowls a little bit at Allie who smiles awkwardly as she pulls her hand back.

“What?” Paige asks when KK and Ice both smirk obnoxiously and begin elbowing the freshmen.

“Just showing the newbies how jealous you get.” KK cackles.

Paige scratches the back of her head. “Well..” She shrugs, bashfully, unable to deny it.

Her attention is drawn when Azzi leans in close, pressing her lips to where Paige’s jaw meets her neck.

“I like it.” Azzi says, quiet enough that only Paige can hear. Paige smiles in response and drops a kiss on her forehead.

//

Paige Bueckers is at peace.

There’s a light breeze that keeps the climate from being too hot, but the sun warms her skin as she lays out on a large beach lounger on a quiet stretch of beach. She has a glass of her favorite cocktail, an interesting book, and no responsibilities for the foreseeable future.

But most importantly, she has Azzi.

She’d started out the day beside Paige, with her own book and drink, looking so damn good in her bikini that Paige had almost dragged her back to their room.

But the beach had looked too beautiful to abandon, so they’d settled in for a day of relaxation.

They’d read their books for the first few hours, taking breaks to film a few TikToks and pose for a few selfies, but eventually Paige notices Azzi’s head begin to bob and soon enough, her book slips out of her grasp as she dozes off.

Paige picks up the book, slipping a bookmark into place for Azzi to come back to later. Within just a few minutes, Azzi has rolled into Paige’s space, ending up with her head pillowed on Paige’s shoulder and an arm and a leg thrown over her. She stays asleep.

Paige knows they can’t stay in this position for long without risking sunburns and bad tan lines, but she wants to savor it as long as she can.

After a while, Paige feels the arm beneath Azzi starting to fall asleep. She shifts a bit, accidentally jostling her.

“You ‘kay?” Azzi asks, lashes fluttering as she wakes up.

“Yeah, sorry.” Paige adjusts herself, tucking Azzi even closer in her embrace. “Go back to sleep.”

“Okay.” Azzi murmurs. She presses a kiss to Paige’s sternum. “Love you.”

Paige watches her girl fall back asleep on her chest. Yeah, life is pretty good.

[idkwhatever580]

I threw it away

Masterlist<< I mostly write Natasha romanoff but if you have a request I’ll be happy to write Regina.

Pairings: Regina George x reader

Prompt: weight had never been a tricky thing for y/n. Until she started dating Regina.

Warnings: bad relationships with food/weight

A/N: idk I wanted to write something like this to show that an ED or a relationship with weight can change even when you’re older and not just at girlhood i guess? Just remember that you are so perfect and loved.

Y/n’s pov

I started dating Regina during the summer between our junior and senior year.

I used to be friends with Janis. That is until I found out what she did to Regina.

I don’t care if a girl is your mortal enemy. You don’t mess around with her biggest insecurities. Even if it’s what she flaunts the most.

Especially not weight. Those Kalteen bars were horrible of janis to do.

I slowly just got “busier” over time. And I eventually just stopped talking to Janis all together. I didn’t want to surround myself with that energy.

So after Regina got hit by that bus I started visiting her and trying to make it up to her.

It might not have happened if I just told her what they did.

But then again, we might not have started dating. So back to now.

I basically have been living at Regina’s place. I spend the night a lot, but if I go home then Gina is always picking me up when I can go.

My parents don’t care much. They say that I’m allowed to live my life. Thank goodness they’re laid back. Of course not as much as Mrs George but they believe that as long as I’m not getting drunk, high, or pregnant then I’m good.

I’m in Gina’s room and she gets up and says

“I’m going to the bathroom.”

I get up to go with her.

“Okay!”

She’s like the black cat and I’m like the golden retriever. But we work really well together.

She walks in and does her business and then after she washes her hands and all, she decides to head over to the scale.

I’ve never used it. But she uses it all the time.

She breaks me out of my thoughts when she thinks out loud

“Yes! Back down to my ideal 120 pounds” (about 54 kilograms?)

I frown. I’ve never heard her say her weight before. And I say

“Congrats baby! Was that from all the kalteen bars?”

She nods her head and says

“I finally worked all the weight off”

I smile and kiss her and say

“That’s great. Why don’t you go tell your mom?”

She shrugs and says

“Eh. It doesnt matter. I’m gonna go back to the room okay?”

I nod my head and say

“I’m gonna pee”

She doesn’t stay since I’m a bit pee shy still so when she leaves I quickly run to the scale and check my weight.

Definitely not Regina’s ideal weight.

Suddenly I feel this rush of guilt fall over me. I walk back to her bed and crawl in with her. As she scrolls through her phone, I get lost in my thoughts.

If Regina tells me I’m perfect the way I am then why would she lie? Obviously she wants to be a certain weight. And if it’s her ideal weight then she clearly wants me to be that way too. I need to lose more weight. Maybe I’ll start a diet. That’s good. I’ll start a diet and just won’t tell Gina until I hit her desired weight and then she’ll think I’m perfect for real.

“What’s on your mind?”

I snap out of it and shake my head

“Nothing! Just watching videos over your shoulder”

She squints at me and says

“Alright. You know if you need anything you can tell me right?”

I nod my head.

Then all of a sudden Mrs George comes into the room and says

“Hey girls! I just wanted to let you know that I made my world famous cookies and they’re cooling in the kitchen right now if you wanted to grab them while they’re warm.”

I smile and Regina gets up so I follow.

She grabs one and says

“Aren’t you gonna eat one?”

I shake my head and say

“I’m not hungry.”

She hums and says

“But you love my mom’s cookies. You always eat a few”

I just now realized how much I eat of those and get slightly flustered so I say

“I’m just not hungry right now”

She nods her head and eats her cookie.

They do smell heavenly. But I must stay strong.

We head back upstairs after Gina finishes her cookie and I go on my phone to look up good diet routines. I find a decent one to start with.

If I don’t like it then I’ll do another one.

So I text my mom and ask her if she can get a few things the next time she goes to the store and she agrees.

Then I turn around and yawn.

“Y/n are you sleepy?”

I nod my head and she says

“Take a nap baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

I smile and let my eyes flutter closed and Regina whispers into my ear

“My perfect girl”

I smile at her even though it’s fake. I don’t feel perfect anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been a few weeks on this diet and it’s hard. It’s hard for me to reject a bunch of the foods I love.

Thankfully Mrs George also makes some keto versions of her food every now and then so I can eat those.

I have a routine now. Every time I go to the bathroom I check my weight right after. I check my weight in the mornings and in the evenings. But only at Regina’s house since I am here all the time.

We’re watching tv on her bed and I say

“I gotta pee. I’ll be right back”

Gina nods and says

“Kk”

I do my business and wash my hands. But it isn’t until I go to where her scale is that I find it’s not there.

I look around the room and I don’t see it anywhere.

“Gina?”

I say loud enough for her to hear me.

“Yeah?”

Once I know I have her attention I say

“Where’s the scale?”

“Oh.. I threw it away”

After she says that I walk quickly to the room and say

“What?! What do you mean you threw it away?”

She shrugs as always and says

“I threw it away”

“Why would you do that? I need to see my weight.”

She gets up and comes to me and says

“I threw it away because I noticed that you’ve been doing this thing where you check your weight all the time.”

“Well you check yours all the time too!”

For some reason this is like a huge deal to me. I just want to be perfect for her. She grabs my hand and sits me down and says

“I know. I realized how bad that can be for my mental health. So I decided that I was going to lose the weight from those nasty kalteen bars and then start fresh. I, of course, have been having a healthy balance between my food intake. But it’s not a huge deal if I lose weight or gain weight. As long as I’m healthy.”

I look at her and say

“Oh. That’s nice.”

She nods her head and continues

“I noticed that once I stopped, you started. And I didn’t want that for you. You have never had to worry about your weight before because it was never a bad thing in your house. Most girls would call you lucky. And I don’t want you to start thinking bad about yourself now”

I frown and say

“But you said the ideal weight is 120?” (54)

She sighs and says

“I said that wrong. I wanted to get back to my baseline and start taking care of myself properly. The only reason I lost that weight in the first place was because I didn’t want to feel like Janis had that hold on my body anymore. If I was gonna gain weight it was going to be for myself. And because of myself. Not for anyone else and not because of anyone else.”

I nod my head in understanding and she puts one of her hands on my cheek and the other on my waist and says

“I’m sorry you ever felt less than perfect because of a stupid slip up I made. Your body is literally so beautiful.”

I doubt her until she says things that most people think are ugly

“From your beautiful stretch marks. Right down to the cellulite in your legs. It’s all beautiful. Perfect. And honestly. You’re so healthy. You work out. You’re strong. You have a good balance with food. Well, you did before you started whatever diet thing you have going on. And you are literally like a puzzle piece for me. The way we can cuddle perfectly. I love your soft tummy because I can nap on it and be so comfortable. I love your ass and tits because they make great handles for… sexy times…”

I giggle and she continues.

“I love how each and every scar and divot and bump and mark on your body tells a story. It makes you, you. And I would change that for the world. So I threw the scale away. If I’m starting new. Then you are too.”

I sigh as I get a fluttery feeling in my heart and stomach and I hug her. I finally say

“Thank you. Thank you so much”

She shakes her head and says

“No thank you. You’re the one who convinced me I’m perfect the way I am. And now it’s my turn to do the same.”

I pull away and she says

“Why don’t we go downstairs. I think my mom is making us a snack”

I smile and nod my head.

We head downstairs and Mrs George is making snickerdoodles and I smell the air and say

“It smells delicious!”

She smiles and says

“I made some keto ones for your diet y/n!”

She pulls out one singular cookie that was set apart from the others and I say

“Oh. No thanks. I’m not gonna diet anymore. My body is perfect the way it is.”

She smiles and nods her head affirming that and then hands each of us a cookie that is still warm and soft from the oven.

I hum when I take the first bite and Gina does it at the same time as me so we end up giggling from it.

This time. I eat two cookies and Gina does the same.

Then Gina asks

“Mom? What did you do with that other cookie?”

She turns around and says

“Oh! I threw it in the trash.”

Gina nods and turns to me. I smile at her and say

“Slay”

We love a good parallel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope y’all liked it! It’s my first time writing Regina George. But I’m thinking of writing a prequel to this and doing how Janis and y/n had their fall out. And when y/n started being friends with Regina. Let me know what y’all think!

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Superstitions pt. 2 ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Summary: Y/N has known lots of superstitions. This particular one is Lando's favourite.

Based on an anon's response to the previous imagine: "superstitions" is so so so so soooo cute 😭😭😭 and honestly, confession, i also do "nazar utarna" before he races so it just made me feel very seen 😭😭😭. thank you for writing!

➥ ln x desi!reader ☁︎ ➥ fluff ☁︎

masterlist ☾☼ Read Part 1 here

According to Lando, one of his favourite things about Y/N was how passionate you were about your country and traditions. He could spend hours and hours listening to you talk about the many festivals that you celebrated, and he could spend hours looking at you wearing a lehenga or sari. Personally, he thought that you looked the most beautiful in a lehenga. Red, and shiny, and twirling under the lights. He was pretty sure that was the moment he truly fell in love with you.

The black thread on his left ankle was a new addition to the few accessories he wore on a daily basis. Though, you had reminded him that it was not an accessory, but rather a protection thread. He was thankful for it, regardless. Oscar and Carlos had questioned him about it when they had met during the summer break, but Lando could only smile and shake his head. It was a concept that he believed would go over his friends' heads. He also liked to keep that little thing between the two of you. It was his most favourite secret. Something that only the two of you shared.

Though, when the two of you had started dating, Lando found his favourite superstition that you believed in. It was during one of the few races you had seen from the paddock. Lando had managed to sneak you in, to avoid the media capturing your face or writing headlines about you.

Just minutes before he had to sit in the car, he had turned to you for a quick kiss. His arms were around your waist, keeping you close to his body. Pecking your lips, he had said, "Wish me luck?"

You had smiled so radiantly. Pulling back a little from him, you rubbed your hands together and then made a waving motion on either side of his head, bringing your hands back to your temple where you curled your fingers and rested them against it.

"Good luck, my love." You had said, kissing him again.

Lando had been puzzled by your action. Before he could question you though, people were calling him, telling him to get ready for the race. Kissing you again, because, honestly, he couldn't get enough of you, Lando quickly ran to his car, and you were led to the screens to watch.

He had no idea what you had done, but whatever it was, it had worked. He achieved P2 in that race, something that he was incredibly proud of after a long, hard fight with the other drivers. The media had kept him occupied for far too long, and before he knew it, he was standing on the podium with his champagne. His eyes stayed on yours for as long as possible, because how could they not? Lando completely dedicated this particular win to you, because it was your magic that had worked.

What had felt like hours later, Lando finally saw you in his driver's room. You were sitting on the couch, scrolling on your phone. At the sound of the door opening, you had looked up, and instantly smiled at Lando's happy face.

He had kissed you desperately, whispering how much he loved you and how thankful he was for you in between his kisses. He could not stop smiling, and neither could you.

"I have to ask, though," His forehead was pressed against yours, his hands moving all over your body.

"What do you have to ask?" Your hands played with the hair at the nape of his head.

"What was that thing you did? Before I went for the race. When I told you to wish me luck." Lando asked.

Pulling back from him, your cheeks turned red. It made Lando giddy.

"It's this thing we do back home. It's called 'nazar utarana'. When I did that to you, I was basically just neutralizing any and all evil energies that may have found home in you." You explained softly. It was new for you. To have someone who wanted to know more about your culture, encourages you to embrace them even more.

Lando had pressed his face in your neck, pressing kisses as he whispered how grateful he was for you. You had laughed, but you had held him close.

It had become a routine for Lando after that. Before every race, he would FaceTime you, watch you as you would do the thing, and every time, he would fall in love with you even more.

You and all your superstitions.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

Honestly, I was not planning on writing part two of this, but reading the anon's message, it inspired me. I hope you enjoyed this! i've also got a link for my taglist and requests that you can find here!

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂 ꒱ 성한빈

summary : daytime drinking wasn't your thing, but you got so hammered you were desperately asking for a man that wasn't yours anymore

genre : angst, fluff at the end, hanbin x afab!reader tws : language, verbal fight, mention of alcohol author notes : oh to be hanbin’s passenger princess sighh word count : 1.1k

the beeping of horns sounded distant inside your head. maybe it's because you were incredibly intoxicated, brain borderline shutting off as you pressed your temple against the glass window of the passenger seat. or maybe it’s because despite your brain barely working, you couldn't stop thinking about the man in the drivers seat.

oh, how he must hate you. how he must resent you for being slumped in his car—nauseous, but focus only on him. how he must hate to know that you thought of him in such a vulnerable state, after drinking god knows how much. how he must hate you for having your friends call him because you couldn't stop saying: i want my boyfriend.

but he wasn't your boyfriend. no, not anymore. and that, you thought, must be why he hated you the most.

now the car had halted, a defeated groan leaving hanbin's lips. he was annoyed—maybe even angry—due to the fact that you had to get drunk during rush hour. that he had to pick you up, despite the red flags telling him not to.

you chuckled at his side, body limp against the door. you looked out to the road, but everything was just spinning, delayed, and bouncy. the cars at your side didn't even look real, and it didn't take very much imagination to see the kid in the backseat stick their tongue out at you mockingly.

truthfully, you don't know why you got so drunk on a tuesday afternoon—your friends convincing you (without much protest) that it was a good idea… when it so obviously wasn't. it's not like you even had a hard day or were drinking to forget an embarrassing memory. you were drinking soju in broad daylight, simply, because you wanted to. and, now that it was past 5pm you couldn't figure out why.

that being the reason it was funny.

hanbin gripped the wheel a little tighter at your laugher—hating, but loving the melody still. he wanted to turn the radio on but was afraid a song you two sang together would start playing, making it harder to stay composed.

the truth is, he was still mad at you for breaking up with him without a seemingly good reason. he didn't want to still feel feelings for you, but he didn't know (he did, but wouldn't admit it) why it hurt so much to be in your presence.

you turned your head to him, feeling the energy in the car shift ever-so-slightly in a bad way. maybe you were more in tune, more honest, while drunk and that made him fearful; because he was dangerously close to asking the question that's kept him up all night.

"what?" hanbin gritted out, causing you to chuckle again, this time at the way his knuckles were turning white, which you hadn’t noticed before. "what's so funny?"

"you." you teasingly poked his flexed arm. "you give nothing to the imagination. i can see right through you!"

he rolled his eyes, praying that the cars in front of him would magically disappear. he even debated throwing you out, but knew that he cared about your safety (still) too much to do that.

"you must hate me." you slurred, not giving him the chance to reply. "you must hate that i didn't even tell you why we broke up… do you want to know?" your head fell back against the seat, and hanbin began to panic. he didn't want you to fall asleep after getting so close to knowing what he wanted—no, needed—to know. finally though, you raised your head. "i'll tell you."

he held his breath, knowing that whatever you said couldn't possibly be good enough to make up for the dark bags under his eyes. the ache in his heart. he knew that it would cut open a wound that he's tried time and time again to stitch closed. so, he didn't say anything, pretending as if he didn't care, as if it wasn't something so desperate for him.

but, you knew.

you knew him well, despite being radio silent for so long. you knew his signs, his tells, for everything. it was no use hiding from you, and he must've forgotten that.

"i broke up with you..." you dragged it out, not in an on-purposely antagonizing way, but in a way that spelled out that you no longer had anything to say. and, maybe, you didn’t actually have an end to the sentence.

"What the fuck?" he had finally spoken. "fuck you, y/n. do you even know how much that means to me? you can't just say something so cut-throat like that and then leave me hanging! are you fucking serious right now? i don't care how drunk you are, you know what you're doing to me."

"you do hate me." your voice lowered into a mumble. "if you hate me so much then why did you come get me? huh, hanbin, why?"

"god, y/n! i would've hated if you had called anyone else." you stopped talking. stopped subconsciously playing with his feelings. you felt belittled, in the middle of the road with him driving full speed towards you. he was always vulnerable with you, and you pushed him off the edge. "tell me right now, y/n. otherwise you'll never hear from me again."

you hesitated, knowing what your heart felt, but head rationalized. you didn't know which was worse in this outcome. you didn't know if you could ever have a happy ending with him. you didn't know why he was still replaying on your mind like a broken record. you didn't know why you kept saying he hated you, despite knowing the opposite deep down.

you don't know why you broke up with him.

in the dead-stop of traffic, he grabbed your face, making you focus on him. maybe it was because he was desperate for an excuse to let you go, for some sort of closure. or maybe he just missed the touch of your skin against his.

you wanted to tell him the truth, you even prompted it, but now the nausea in your throat wasn't from the copious amounts of alcohol, but from the way his eyes searched yours for any once of love—anything that told him this was okay with you, that you wanted him back too.

and you were scared that he'd found it, voice shaky. "i don't want to—can't—lose you again."

his lips crashed against yours, almost like he'd been starved for so long, desperate for the feeling. he was almost stomach to the center console, fingers dipping into the plush of your cheeks gently. he didn't want to let you go, and frankly, neither did you, but the fervent honking from behind you had you gasping against the air when he did.

you laughed, it hitting against his lips for a moment, him using all his willpower to not lean in again and close the gap that just kept getting wider as he backed up. he had to be responsible and drive the car home, after all, that's all he was called to do. however, your friends never specified which home he'd drive to. and, you weren't too pressed on asking, knowing that whichever outcome it was, he'd finally be back in your arms.

and this time, you weren't letting him go.

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

— perm tag list .ᐟ send an ask to be added c:

[flemingsgirl]

PART 1: Building bridges and boundaries

It’s an always kinda type- chapter one - first glances, lasting moments

Back in 2020, Jessie transfers to Chelsea, her first professional season, away from home and friends. But what if she wins friends in this special club, a new family. Follow Jessie and Y/N on their journey through friendship, rivalry and maybe something more. How circumstances change their dynamic and their growth as individuals.

Tw: full of fluffy (the first chapters), heartache/ break, angst (somewhat along the line, I'll tell you if time is ripe:))

AN: Here I am! Back from the dead. Hope you enjoy this story about Jessie, as much as I like daydreaming about it. Let me know your thoughts 🙈

“Let’s welcome our newest signings!” Emma’s voice rang out through the packed meeting room, her energy lifting the atmosphere. “Until now, they’ve trained individually with our coaches, and some of them have already met during those sessions. But today, they’re official Blues.” The room erupted into cheers as the new players stepped forward to introduce themselves.

Jessie Fleming, the young Canadian star, was among them. When it was her turn, she gave a shy smile and introduced herself, taking a seat next to Y/N.

Y/N couldn’t help but glance at the woman next to her. What had brought her here that still required an introduction? Jessie Fleming—Canada’s brightest talent, the one they all whispered about in hushed tones. The rivalry between Canada and the U.S. ran deep, but now, it was time to become teammates. The Canadian’s freckled face turned toward Y/N, her hand outstretched.

“Y/N,” the American replied, shaking her hand firmly but with a softness that matched her smile.

“Y/L/N, right? I’ve heard of you. We’ve played each other quite a few times,” Jessie said, her accent adding a bit of warmth to the already friendly exchange.

“That’s right, but I thought now, as teammates,” Y/N shrugged lightly, her tone relaxed, trying to break any tension.

Jessie chuckled softly. “You’re right. I’m Jessie,” she responded, squeezing Y/N’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You know, Jess,” Y/N began, leaning in just a little, “It’s okay, right? I really want to get to know you. After all those games we played, I can honestly say I love your style of play. Watching you is fulfilling—you’ve got so much talent.”

“Thank you. Likewise. You’re tough to play against,” Jessie replied, her lips curling into a shy smile, her cheeks tinted with a soft blush.

“But that’s the fun part, right?” Y/N grinned, her eyes glimmering. “I appreciate it!”

Before the conversation could go further, a familiar voice broke in. “Psst.” Sam Kerr’s voice was filled with mischief as she turned toward the younger players. She gave Y/N a teasing wink before facing forward again.

“That’s… Sam Kerr, huh?” Y/N started.

Jessie cut in, her voice light but filled with admiration. “Yep. Quite the impressive player.”

Later, after the meeting wrapped up, Emma called everyone onto the field to kick off the new season. “Form pairs!” she shouted, the players quickly pairing up. Y/N turned to find Erin, her usual partner on the field, but before she could, Jessie tapped her lightly on the shoulder, offering a shy smile. “Can we maybe… pair up?”

“Usually, it’s Erin and me,” Y/N said, glancing back at the Scottish player, who was already moving off to partner with someone else. “But I think it’s okay. Let’s go for it.”

Jessie smiled brighter now, picking up a ball and finding a spot for them to start the drill. “So, London—what brought you here?”

“Well, not the weather, that’s for sure,” Y/N said with a playful grin.

“Compared to California? Definitely not,” Jessie agreed, her eyes sparkling with humour. Y/N laughed.

“Honestly, I see this team as a chance. A platform to grow, maybe win a few trophies, and—hopefully—make new friends,” the Canadian states.

“The team really is nice,” Y/N assured.

“Everyone seems really welcoming.” Jessie responded thoughtfully

Y/N nodded, Jessie glances out over the pitch. “Tell me more,” she said, eager to get to know the team better.

“Well, Erin’s a bit… strange. I’d recommend staying away from her.” Y/N’s voice carried a teasing tone, and as if on cue, Erin shot her a mock glare from across the field, which only made Y/N laugh harder. “Told you.” She chuckled and looked back at Jessie, who was grinning.

“I can see it,” Jessie replied with a nod. “She sounds like quite the character.”

“She is,” Y/N confirmed, her tone fond. “But you know, she’s a gem. She’s the one who answered the phone every time I called her at weird hours of the night. She’s always there.”

“That’s a true friend,” Jessie remarked, her voice soft.

Y/N smiled at her, feeling the warmth of the conversation settle between them. “Yeah, for sure. Then there’s Sam. She’s one of a kind, like everyone on this team. In the last year, I’ve learned so much from her. She’s like an older sister to me—teasing, challenging, but always having my back. I love her, but all platonic, of course,” she added with a slight, nervous chuckle.

“Sounds like you’ve got a really strong bond with them,” Jessie said, her eyes softening.

Y/N’s smile faltered for a moment, her gaze dropping to the ground. “Yeah, I had to leave my family and friends behind when I moved here for competition, for change. But in the end, I found my people. They’re my family now.”

Jessie looked at her, understanding flashing in her eyes. “I get it,” she said quietly. “I hope to find that here too.”

Y/N met Jessie’s gaze with a warm smile. “Of course, Fleming. You’re not being left out.” She shifted slightly, then added, “I can show you around, the good side of London. I think you’d like it.”

Jessie hesitated for a moment, then smiled, her cheeks slightly pink. “I don’t want to force you.”

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have asked,” Y/N replied, her tone firm but gentle. “I’m an honest person, Jess.”

As they continued their drill, Niamh appeared, offering a thumbs-up to confirm their plans. “Right after training, we’re all going out. You in?”

Jessie glanced at the ground, her fingers fiddling nervously with the ring on her hand as heat crept up her neck. She nodded, agreeing with a soft smile.

After training, the trio found themselves wandering through the streets of London, Y/N leading them to hidden gems.

“You know the hidden spots, huh?” Niamh asked, her voice curious as she looked around.

“Erin showed me around, and I guess you could thank her and Millie for it,” Y/N said with a grin.

“You made it, huh?” Niamh’s voice held a teasing tone. “You’re officially with the cool kids now.”

Y/N laughed. “More like the older, noisy sisters,” she teased, giving Niamh a playful shove on the shoulder. “Let’s grab some food. I’m starving.”

Later, seated in a cozy Italian restaurant, the trio relaxed into conversation, their laughter filling the air. “What are your first impressions of training?” Y/N asked, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

“The squad seems nice,” Jessie answered, a note of genuine warmth in her voice.

“I agree,” Niamh chimed in. “The staff, too. They seem like a good group.”

Y/N leaned back in her chair. “So, who are you looking forward to playing with most?”

Jessie’s eyes twinkled as she thought. “I think Sam and Magda would be fun to play with.”

“Ah, I see,” Niamh mused, “Can’t wait to play with Pernille, or you, of course.”

Jessie’s eyes flicked to Y/N, a subtle shift in her posture as a small smile danced on her lips.

Y/N noticed it, but before she could comment, Niamh leaned forward with a mischievous grin. “So, Fleming. What are your thoughts on the team?”

Jessie’s cheeks turned a shade darker, and she quickly turned her gaze away, fumbling with her hands under the table. “I’m happy with everyone,” she said quietly, her voice soft. “I couldn’t choose, really. They all seem amazing.”

“Sweet answer,” Niamh teased. “You’re definitely a heartwarming person. I’d love to have a friend like you.” She reached across the table, giving Jessie’s cheek a playful poke.

Jessie’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and she shifted awkwardly in her seat, avoiding their eyes. “Well… he’s not my type,” she whispered, barely audible.

Niamh’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?” she asked, clearly puzzled.

Y/N glanced between them, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “I think we’re getting off track here,” she said, laughing. “Any thoughts on lunch?”

After a long, laughter-filled evening, the three of them finally parted ways, heading home for the night. Y/N drove Niamh and Jessie home. She looked over at Jessie as they stopped in front of their apartment building. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “you’re on my way to training anyway. Let’s take turns driving.”

Jessie hesitated for a moment, but Niamh cut in. “Sounds good,” she agreed quickly.

Y/N smiled, giving them both a thumb-up. “Til tomorrow.”

As she drove back to her apartment, she couldn’t help but think about the night—and the spark of something that felt like it was just beginning between her and Jessie.

[takusan-no-ai]

You need a lollipop

PAIRING: Ellen x Male Reader (Romantic) (Fluff)

SUMMARY: (Y/N) is a workaholic, and his girlfriend Ellen will force him to take a break.

“I saw this one SUPER cute nail polish online yesterday!” Ruby said while walking with her friends around campus. It was break time and so the four friends, Ruby, Monna, Lynn, and Ellen, decided to just walk and talk outside.

“Really? Send it to me later…,” Ellen replied. Monna and Lynn were having a mini convo of their own, and everyone was happy. Key word, was.

A large group of boys, likely in the track team as Ellen noted, came gunning straight for them. The girls were able to dodge, but the boy in front of them with his face in a book didn’t. And so he crashed right on top of Ellen, who was too tired to dodge again.

They both rubbed their foreheads, while Ellen’s friends were giggling in the background. She looked at them confused for a moment, and then she looked at the boy straddling her; (Y/N), sits in the seat at the front of class, voted most likely to be an overachiever. She also kinda liked him. Not a lot. Only a little. Really, just a little…

Her friends were aware of this, and only helped her up after the poor boy started freaking out about it. “Don’t worry, it’s those jocks fault, not yours. Besides, everyone else is fine.” Moona calmed the situation down naturally.

Ellen didn’t make eye contact with (Y/N), her face starting to get too warm for comfort after the whole ordeal. And she just knew her friends would tease her endlessly; the thought alone made Ellen puff out her cheeks.

Some days had passed since then, with Ellen’s eyes always drifting over towards (Y/N) during class. It wasn’t until she saw him especially tired that she grew worried of his health. Though she’d never admit it directly.

He was sitting at his desk, eyes heavy with bags, hair messy, and the tips of his fingers red from the hard grip of his pencil as he scribbled down unintelligible notes. Ellen walked over to him, her tail swaying slightly back and forth. She looked around the room, making sure her friends weren’t watching.

“Hey.” She said

He shook slightly, immediately turning around to look at her. “So-sorry. How long have you been there?” (Y/N) asked. Ellen rolled her eyes and handed him a lollipop. He made a confused expression.

“You clearly need one.” She thrusted it into his hand and walked away. Before she could flee the scene he grabbed her hand and forced eye contact with her.

“Thank you. My name’s (Y/N), what’s yours?” He asked, letting go of her.

“…hmm…Ellen.”

From then on the relationship progressed smoothly, and before Ellen knew it (her friends already betted on it happening) they both started dating.

Of course, Ellen still took note of his constant over working habits; she honestly never understood it. Why didn’t he sleep more often? Sleep is great. It recovers energy, can give sweet dreams, and lets you skip hours of the day. What wasn’t there to love about it?!

So, to keep him from being in an early grave, Ellen took it upon herself to graciously expend her own energy and keep him away from work. Karaoke, skipping class, listening to concerts, even just sleeping. It didn’t always work, but she did notice a change in habits with (Y/N).

He was more willing to take breaks, and would often text Ellen about his excitement to spend more time with his girlfriend.

“Hey pup, ready for a movie night?” He asked cheerfully; his eyes were burning bright, appearance clean enough where he could be mistaken for a celeb, and a cute smile to boot.

Ellen puffed out her cheeks, this was getting too much. Love was too energy draining, especially with (Y/N); her heart kept pounding every time she’s with him, which makes her exhausted, but she likes it so she stays, which makes her really exhausted. It was a never ending cycle. And yet she still loved it.

Ellen sat down next to him, placing her tail on his lap so he could hug it. “Yeah, movie nights are only fun when I’m with you.”

- Fin

[appleblueberry-pie]

Hello again, I hope you are doing well. I was wondering if you are still open for requests. If so, may I please request for Yandere Nanami wherein his precious captive darling is sick and refuses to be nursed by him

I am 4ever open for requests. I am grateful for the meal. It shall be digested properly.

Let Me Take Care of You.

note: You guys ever been so sick you started crying???

You both knew that this shouldn't go on for any longer. You knew you should've given in a long, long time ago. You've never felt so....terrible from a sickness before. You've never felt this helpless. Weak. But you showing weakness wasn't what destroyed you. You could care less if you looked helpless because the pain and struggle was just that great. You couldn't eat. You could only down liquids and, fuck, you really couldn't speak either. Your lower back hurt. Your arms hurt. Your sides hurt. Your neck hurt. You couldn't rest properly because of the pain. And on top of that, you were extremely fatigued, and dizzy.

During the daytime, you would overheat and even the thinnest shirts with wide-open windows could cool you. But at night, the slightest crack in the window with the millions of blankets you had on top of you couldn't warm you up. It was hell on Earth. And Kento couldn't bare to sit back and watch you struggle any longer. You were his sweetheart. His baby. His everything. And you wouldn't let him help you. It was driving him insane. In the morning, he would watch you move at a snails pace into the kitchen to refill your glass with water. You would avoid eye contact. If he told you good morning, you would reply. But your voice trembled when you spoke, as if it was a task to even make noise. It made him put his newspapers down in extreme concern. But still, you wouldn't let him help you. Take care of you.

It was when he came back for work that he decided he had enough. He thought about it the entire time he was on the clock. He took you in for a reason. He vowed to himself that he would never neglect you and would always take care of you. Yes, he wanted you to be comfortable around him, and yes, he allowed you to set some barriers between the two of you, but you were so sick.

When he walked in the door, all of the lights were off and it was slightly stuffy. The windows were all closed and you obviously didn't eat, seeing the empty kitchen sink with no dirty dishes. He sighs and makes his way to the bathroom. He goes to turn on the light when he hears the soft sound of sobbing from the bedroom. He freezes and turns towards the bedroom door, walking over to sneakily place his ear on it. You're crying. Kento knocks on the door. "Y/n?" Immediately, the sound stops. "Can I come in, please?" You sigh shakily underneath the covers. How the fuck did he hear you? You tell him no. The door creaks open and he softly closes the door behind him.

He walks around to your side of the bed and kneels down to see your puffy face, wet with tears. It breaks his heart knowing he was gone and couldn't comfort you when you were crying like this. "Hey, what's wrong?" He rubs your arm above the blankets and you sniffle. "It's nothing. Please leave me alone." God, you sounded like you were in pain. You could almost see a vein popping out of his neck. You were beginning to stress him out. "Y/n." You shook your head. "No."

His eye twitched and he got into a more comfortable sitting position on the floor. "Sweetie, you know I told you not to keep secrets. Can you please tell me what has you so upset?" It was so painfully obvious what was wrong. There were used tissues scattered on the ground, you had so many blankets, and he could see your sunken in face.

"You're sick."

You used the energy you didn't have to try and turn the other way. You only managed to get yourself onto your back. It was silent between the two of you. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on not crying again, but it was just too much. You didn't want his help. He ruined your life. Kidnapped you, erased your public image, got rid of your phone number. You had nothing but him. You didn't want him. You ignored him. You tried to ignore him. He's right here for you and you just can't help but realize he's quite literally all that you have. It's so humiliating how you have to depend on the only person who you hate that is willingly giving himself to you like this.

A terrible sob rips itself out of your chest and you cover your face with your hands, a migraine reappearing at the strain you place on yourself once more. "I know I'm sick. I fucking know!" You couldn't even properly yell at him, too tired to even try. He frowns, and kneels on the floor, closer to the edge of the bed. "Then why don't you let me take care of you?" He wants to wipe your face of the tears, wipe the sweat off of your forehead. Feel you again. But he's scared he'll stress you out even more.

His hand almost hovers over your face as you cry. Your sad sigh of pain gives him the courage he needs to gently bring the back of his index finger over your face. He wipes a tear that falls down your cheek before bringing his other hand to wipe the other side completely. You let him. His touch was so very gentle. As if he didn't want to scare you away. "I can take care of you...." I am capable, he wanted to add that on. He loved you so much. He would rather fight a thousand curses before seeing you in this state again. He will do almost anything for you. Anything to see you happy. See you smile. He wanted to be fully yours. And he will do anything to prove that to you. Your eyes flutter open when he's done and you look over at him sadly.

Your eyes, so beautiful and beguiling, give him the softest look he's ever gotten from you. It makes his heart skip a beat and he sits up straighter. He would smile at you, but now is obviously not the time for that. "How do you feel? Do you want me to bring you medicine? Are you still in pain?" You look away before making eye contact with him again and nodding. He nods back and responds, "Okay. I will bring you some medicine and more water to drink." He wipes stray hairs off of your face, realizing how much you had to neglect yourself to rest. "I will make you beef stew, as well. You might be hungry, and your body needs energy to survive. I won't let you drink just water. Hopefully you will finish it all, and by then, maybe I could get you cleaned up, if you allow me to." You stare at him silently. He was offering to help you get better. You honestly don't remember the last time anyone has done that for you. But even then, he was still your kidnapper. Still, though, what were you going to do, say no? You hesitate before nodding to him. His face finally softens and he caresses your cheek one more time before forcing himself to stop.

"I love you." A weight is lifted off of his chest when he says those words. He wanted to say it to you in a better moment, but any moment is a good moment rather than when it's too late. He doesn't let you respond and gets up to leave and make you stew, a new fervor in his stride.

[enyalios-shrine]

𝘼𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥 101

Hi! I’m Raven (or Ray), and I’ve been an Ares devotee for almost five years now. You want to start worshiping him? Great! Despite what today’s media makes of him - which I will talk about a lot in this post - , he’s actually a very caring, gentle and (dare I say) beginner-friendly deity! In general, a great choice! (Also, this is inspired by another post I saw but forgot to save - so, credits for the idea goes to that person) So, let's get started.

WHO IS ARES? - MODERN MISCONCEPTIONS

Since I’m assuming you already know the broad strokes of who he is (Greek god of war, bloodshed, violent and so forth), this section will be about some of the misconceptions most people have of Him. If you’ve ever consumed any Greek mythology-related media, I’m sure you’ve seen the following caricature: beefy, misogynistic, violent, stupid jerk, rude and always looking for a fight. While, yes, He IS violent (He's the god of war, afterall), that's far from all He has to offer.

Did you know Ares is actually historically a major feminist? That’s probably the first thing to get demystified about Him when you talk to an Ares devotee or worshiper, so I’m not really saying ground-breaking news here, but since a fair amount of people don’t know about it, I thought it was a fair mention. So, let’s get into the actual myths and proofs for this claim:

Ares was the father of and supported the Amazons in battle, a group of female-only warriors and hunters.

He’s one of the only male deities in Greek mythology to not have sexually harassed or raped someone. Yes, even other deities viewed as “nice” such as Apollo and Hermes have done so (I don’t mean any disrespect for those deities here - I’m also an Apollo devotee).

Ares was held in trial for the murder of Halirrhotius, a son of Poseidon, after he raped one of Ares’ daughters, Alkippe. He was acquited of murder by the gods. Remember, back in ancient Greece, women didn’t have ANY rights - raping one was not considered a crime or even frowned upon as far as I'm aware.

One of His epithets is “Ares Gynaikothoina", which means "feasted by women". During a war between the Tegeans and the Spartans, the women of Tegea defended the city from a invasion led by the Spartan king Charilaus. After arming themselves, they defeated the Spartans following an ambush. Among the prisoners was the Spartan king himself. In commemoration, they would hold a feast in honor of Ares, to which only women were invited.

All in all, Ares is protective, just, and encouraging of His children as well as worshipers and devotees. He’s not the piece of shit jock most people think of when you mention His name. Please stop doing my man this dishonor, He deserves so much better.

BASIC INFO

His Roman counterpart is Mars. He’s the son of Zeus and Hera, and his consourt is Aphrodite (even though they’re not officially married). His divine children are Phobos and Deimos (twin daimones/personified spirits of panic and terror, respectively), Harmonia (goddess of harmony and concord), Antero (erote/god of requited love) and Eros (erote/god of carnal love), all which he had with Aphrodite, as well as Drakon of Thebes (a giant serpent), which he apparently had by himself.

As for hero children; Cycnus (a bloody-thirsty men who was murdered by Herakles), Diomedes of Thrace (who had man-eating horses for some reason), Thrax (who founded Thrace), Oenomaus (Greek king of Pisa), and the Amazons (female warriors and hunters as mentioned above).

His symbols and associations are: spears, swords, helmets, armour, dogs, chariots, shields, The Chariot & The Emperor tarot cards, etc.

FESTIVALS AND DAYS

Tuesdays are holy to Ares and are ruled by the planet Mars (again, his Roman counterpart), which means they’re associated with action, energy, strength, and courage, as well as the color red.

As for festivals, He was typically honored with special rites in times of war or just before battles. There were also two annual festivals: one in the town of Geronthrae in ancient Laconia, celebrated only by men, and one in Tagea in Arcadia, celebrated only by women, where His "feasted by women" epithet came from. There's hardly any info on exact dates (from the Attic calendar or not) or info about any other festivals.

SACRED ANIMALS

Serpents

Dogs

Vultures

Woodpecker

Barn owls

Eagle owls

SACRED PLANTS

There’s no plant, flower or tree traditionally associated with Ares, unfortunately, so I’m gonna give a list of my UPG’s. Now, I’m not a witch, so I don’t know about the magical properties of the plants I’m about to list (if you’re a witch and were looking for something like that, my bad). However, I am a florist and have a special interest in floriography, so I assign them to Him based on vibe, meaning, etc.

Amaryllis (Means “Pride”)

Basil (Means “Hate”)

Water hemlock (Means “Death”)

Snapdragon (Means “Presumption”, but I think he just likes the way it looks)

Poppy (Means “Eternal sleep”, but has a long history with wars, being the first kind of flora to start growing in abandoned battlefields that were previously considered infertile)

Nettle (Means “Cruelty”)

Magnolia (Means “Dignity”)

Yarrow (Means “Cure for a broken heart”, and is said to have been used by Achilles to heal his men on the battlefield, which is why the scientific name is “Achillea”)

Ginger (Associated with “Heat”)

Pepper, spices, etc (idk he just gives the vibes)

OFFERINGS & DEVOTIONAL ACTS

Honestly, the only slander Ares should be getting is that He likes edgy teenage boy things. That being said, here's some ideas/suggestions, first for devotional acts and then offerings:

Workout or do any kind of physical activity

Take care of your mental and physical health

Stand up for yourseld and what you believe in

Learn about past wars, battles, and riots

Do things that make you feel badass/brave/empowered

Go to a protest

Work on managing your anger (especially for my fellow BPD havers)

Pet a dog

Honor His children and Aphrodite

For offerings; any kind of meat, especially red

Anything sharp (cool knives or daggers, broken glass, etc)

Bones!!

Halloween decor (I personally have those fake plastic snakes, spiders, and a skull on His altar)

Black coffee, the stronger the better

Any alcohol, but especially whiskey

Anything spicy

WHY WORSHIP ARES? - A PERSONAL RANT

Living in an extremely physically abusive household, I had to know and be acostumed to violence from a very young age. That violence left with many things - BPD and C-PTSD, to name a few - but mostly importantly, it left me only being able to feel one thing: anger.

I was angry at everything. Angry at the world for allowing me to have to live through such a horrible situation, angry at my mom for not standing up for me, angry at my abuser, even angry at myself for not ever trying to fight back or protect myself (though now I realize that was completely out of the question. I was only 8, what could I have done against a man in his 30's that was three times my size?).

That anger didn't go away after I got away from my abuser. If anything, it grew worse. I'd yell, break everything around me, say horrible things to the people I loved - I was a totally different person. I could barely recognize myself. I was an empty shell, filled with absolutely nothing else than the purest form of resentment and wrath, things that had been brewing inside of me since I was a child. I never had the choice to become anything else.

Ares understands violence. He's the god of it. He knows when it's justifiable and when it's not, when it serves a purpose and when it's out of pure malice. He helped me realize that instead of trying to fight against my anger out of the shame it made me feel, I had to embrace it - become one with it. It's a part of me, at the end of the day. I just had to figure out how to control it instead of letting it control me.

He embraced me when I was too disgusted with this ugly side of me to even look in a mirror. I was scared of myself - he wasn't. He's seen worse. I never had someone accept me and all my flaws before, god or otherwise.

That's why it's so upsetting to see the modern depictions so many people have of him. Someone so understanding and loving being defined by the worst parts of Himself, just like I used to do with myself in the past.

Ares is the god of war, war is not the god of Ares.

[highonmarvel]

girl- i'd do ANYTHING for a very dark!Thor x f!reader where reader is kidnapped and enslaved by him. Noncon, violence will be great.

Love ya! And ty, no pressure :))

-🪐

no it did not take me five months to answer this, who said that. i do apologise for the nearly half a year wait, i’m not sure what’s wrong with me, but i appreciate the ask, and your patience! love you to the moon and to saturn 🪐 alright, here we go:

No Words, Just Screams

Thor Odinson: A quiet and dignified rejection leads to consequences that are the exact opposite of it.

Thank you to the absolutely incredible @buckys-wintersoldier for helping me with this. You are seriously, seriously the best person ever, I love you so much.

additional content warnings here!

CONTENT WARNING, PLEASE READ: This piece includes graphic depictions of violence. Seriously, this is really dark; do not proceed if you are uncomfortable with explicit descriptions of physical abuse and rape. This is your warning. This is fucking dark. I am going to hell.

Non Con Warning

For only the second time in your life you reject a man. He seems nice enough—Thor, is his name—and you’ve seen him around a few times at a mutual friend’s parties, but you’ve hardly spoken to him; he’s gregarious and outgoing and he gets along well with everyone, including you. Though you hardly know him, he’s never given you a reason to dislike him; very short pleasantries have always been comfortable and even humorous, and everyone around you says he’s cool, you’ve just never had the opportunity to really learn anything about him, especially considering he never sticks with one group during a party, making his way through the crowd so everyone gets a piece of him, although it’s never been too much for you.

That’s why you’re so taken aback when he finds you outside and confesses his attraction to you. You had slipped out to the backyard to take a smoke break and try to relieve yourself of the pounding headache caused by the constant yelling and booming music inside.

“I really, really like you. And I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me sometime.”

“Oh!” you startle, really not having expected this. “I… I’m sorry but no… I just don’t know you too well.”

For a moment you wonder if that was the right call—you haven’t really been on too many dates but you know the general idea of them is to get to know someone, and who knows, maybe you’d actually find yourself attracted to him; he’s not bad looking at all—strong arms, blue eyes, blond hair, the works—but you can’t say anything on him as a person. Nearly as immediately as that thought crosses your mind, it’s swept away when his expression changes.

The usually lighthearted and easygoing demeanour he carries vanishes into thin air, and the somewhat bashful nature he had around you as he asked you the question turns into something a little darker, and more serious.

You really can’t tell what’s wrong with this guy. You try to tell yourself he’s just feeling embarrassed and maybe even a little sad right now, but for some reason you suddenly notice the extreme height difference and avert your eyes.

Deciding it’s best to head back inside, you try to push past him on the narrow veranda where he stands blocking your path to the door. He’s still as you move and for a second you don’t think he’ll do anything until suddenly a calloused hand clasps around your wrist and you yelp in fright jumping back at the touch.

“Sorry!” he apologises nearly immediately with a breathy half-laugh.

You look up from his hand restraining you to find his eyes have softened and his popular but not douchey energy is back, as if that earlier spell was just a trick of light.

“I’ve just… never been rejected before,” he laughs again and shakes his head. His words sound lightheartedly incredulous, innocently surprised, but his grip on you is so strong you’re starting to lose feeling in the tips of your fingers.

“Uh— yeah, alright,” he lets your hand fall free and you gasp as the blood comes rushing back, cradling your wrist in the palm of your other. “Just know that you’re incredible, and any guy would be lucky to have you.”

You want to thank him for the compliment and for his interest, but you’re sort of frozen in bewilderment at his weird juxtaposition; his words are soft and sweet, but he won’t meet your eyes, staring into the distance as if focused on something; his reaction to your rejection wasn’t extreme, but it was so unsettling you’d rather he have yelled at you.

You give him a quick, tight-lipped smile before rushing inside and shutting the door behind you, not really caring that you left him out there. For 15 minutes you half-dance lingering by the backdoor, but it never opens again and he never steps in. Oh, God, you really hope no one saw that, you’d rather not be bombarded with questions about why Thor ditched the party after seeing you, but you also don’t want to leave immediately and be interrogated on why you and Thor left at the same time. Eventually you stop hanging at the back of the house and dance your way to the main area where Nat is swaying happily.

“Nat!” you yell her name over the music, moving into her sight line to try to get her attention.

“Oh, hey!” she says in an excited and high pitched voice, “Where’d you go?”

“I just went out for a breather and spoke to Thor.”

“You did?” she replies, closing her eyes as she moves to the music, “That’s great, he’s great!” She’s clearly drunk and you doubt that even if you got her alone for a bit she’d be able to understand what you’re trying to tell her. And what even are you trying to tell her? He didn’t hurt you (intentionally), he didn’t do anything wrong at all, in fact, he was overwhelmingly nice, but the way he switched was spine chilling.

You just nod and continue dancing until your legs are tired. You pour yourself a glass of water at the drink table, looking out through the window it’s pushed against into the street where parked cars are lined up and down the road. But one car is in the middle with the engine running, and you swear it’s Thor’s, but it’s just sitting there, and it’s too dark to tell if it’s him inside. If it is him, what’s he doing? Is he waiting for someone? He came here alone, but he stayed sober tonight, maybe so he could drive a few friends home because he was just that thoughtful, but… maybe that’s not the reason he’s sober while everyone else—including you—is drunk as fuck or high as shit.

Your mind swirls in confusion—worsened by the alcohol—as you try to get your bearings, trying to decide if maybe you really are just being unnecessarily skeptical and harsh on him. Whatever his intentions, you still felt weirdly uncomfortable, and you’re not really able to enjoy the rest of the night feeling slightly unnerved by his earlier presence.

You give Nat a quick goodbye and she waves, but you’re not sure if she heard you say you’re leaving or if she was just swaying to the music. The cool night air calms you down as you step through the front door, but you’re not at peace for long before you stumble and nearly fall face first into the concrete with a shriek. But you don’t feel the impact, instead, you feel steady arms catch you, and hold you a little tighter than necessary.

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice asks: Thor. Maybe he just went to drop someone off at home and he’s back now, there’s no reason to think he’s watching you or following you or anything like that; for Christ’s sake, you barely even spoke to him a few hours ago, you can’t even classify the interactions you’ve had with him as a conversation, and he’s known around here to be the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, so why does this feel so odd?

You grab onto his biceps to steady yourself, mumbling a thanks as you straighten to full height. You can’t really focus on his features considering you’re much drunker than you initially thought, but his cadence just doesn’t seem right.

What the fuck is wrong with this guy? Or, alternatively, what’s wrong with you?

“That’s not an answer, baby.” Baby? “You can’t even walk, let me take you home.”

The last thing you want to do is spend any time alone with him, even though you have to admit his offer seems better than sitting on the couch of a hot living room while people grind on each other all around you. What can you do? You’re feeling a little too out of it to reject his offer, but you know he can tell you don’t want this, and you know he can come up with a dozen reasons as to why you should get home, and why he should be the one to take you; you only really know Nat here and she’s in no condition to drive or even just walk you home, and you don’t live close, so walking alone isn’t just unfeasible based on distance, but after midnight is way too dangerous, and you might even hit the ground on your way.

His hand is light on your bicep, gently catching your attention as he gestures to his car with his other, like he’s laid a treat down to lure an animal into his cage. When you don’t move for a few moments, he guides you forwards; initially you try to resist him, planting your feet in the ground as he walks just a little ahead of you, but even his lightest tug is stronger than you can fight in this state, and you soon find yourself slowly walking with him, carefully eyeing the car.

He opens the back door and you slide in, head pounding and vision slightly blurred, but at least relieved you don’t have to sit next to him. You don’t realise you hadn’t given him your address until the car slows after ten minutes, and you groggily turn your now-heavy head towards the windows and peer at the unfamiliar yard the car is parked in.

Before you have time to question it, Thor gets out and slams the door behind him, the car rocks on its wheels and you try to clasp onto the car door but it’s flung open before you can latch onto it. A shrill squeal leaves your throat before your arm is caught in a death grip between a rough palm with fingers digging so hard into your arm you worry he’ll snap right through your bone.

“Thor—”

“Shut the fuck up!” he yells in your face, causing you to cringe back into the car but he harshly tugs you out and you fall to your hands and knees on the rocky pavement with a grunt, the stones splitting the relatively thin skin of your knees leaving abrasions dirty with sand and small rocks.

Thor’s hand tangles itself into your hair and you yelp as you grip onto his wrist and hastily stumble to your feet lest you risk him ripping your scalp off. If he feels your nails digging into his skin so hard trickles of blood run down your fingers, he doesn’t show it.

You let one hand go and attempt to swipe at him but he’s just far enough out of reach, and you’re not really able to land any hits on target given on your disorientation.

The door to what you assume is his house slams open and you’re flung so far in your slide across the floor for a few metres before hitting your head against the hardwood. You groan as you lift a hand to your temple to feel for a warm trickle of blood racing down the side of your face, but before you can bring your fingertips to your line of vision, a heavy and muddy boot presses onto your head, pushing your cheek into floor and clotting leaves and twigs into your hair. You gasp and try to reach back to pry his ankle off of you but he swats the hand away with one of his own and you let it fall to the floor with a whimper. He leans forward on his leg and lets out a disappointed sigh, crushing your face so your lips purse and you can’t even ask for him to stop.

“This could have been a lot easier, you know,” he says casually, as if saying yes to him was the definition of a no-brainer, and in his mind, it might have been; he’s never been rejected before, and by the way he’s behaving, you can tell he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Saliva drips out of your mouth and forms a small pool on the floor as he presses down harder, before he finally releases you and you’re able to place your hands underneath your shoulders and push your head up, and the room spins so fast you nearly regret doing so. You don’t have time for relief before you’re kicked so you have to roll over onto your back and stare up at this beastly man who seems to be becoming less human and more animal-like by the second, breathing heavily as if he’s the one who was practically thrown across the room and crushed under the weight of a tall man. His pupils have definitely dilated, making the anger in his eyes that much more intense.

Again he presses his foot down, this time to your stomach, knocking the wind right out of you. You try to squirm upwards from under him but he leans down and effortlessly wraps a large hand around your throat, stopping you in your tracks as you pivot your attention to prying him off of you and trying to get some air into your lungs again, ignoring the black spots that dot the corners of your vision.

He does finally let go of your neck but not before slamming your head into the floor, making you gurgle and sending a near-deafening ringing sound bouncing through your skull. You try to prop yourself up on your forearms but you can’t lift your head a few inches off the ground before it slams back down.

“I try… to be nice,” he growls as he steps over you, putting one foot on either side of your body, “And you… just wanna be difficult.” He brings his boot up and slams it down hard against your wrist, and your scream is so loud you nearly miss the unmistakable bone-crunching sound the stomp makes as your left wrist breaks under the impact.

“Please—” you begin, but are forced to let out a cry of pain as he presses down harder.

“I told you to shut the fuck up!” he bellows, but he finally frees your mangled hand and you gasp as you push over to your left side, wanting to grasp your wrist in your right palm but stopping short when noticing the hypersensitivity even as you brush your fingers lightly over your jagged skin is enough to make you want to pass out. “No words,” he continues, clearly trying hard to keep his voice level, though you can still hear the twinge of sadistic enjoyment at the edges of his words, “Just screams.”

He nudges you over until you’re lying on your belly again and makes quick work of kicking your legs apart. In anticipation of what’s coming, you try to kick at his crotch but he catches your ankle and crashes your leg back down to the cold, hard floor. The sound of him unbuckling his belt makes your heart rate pick up, drumming against your ribs is such harsh hits you’re scared it’ll break through. You try to claw forward but choke on a sob as you’re reminded of your broken wrist when the slightest movement causes blood to start painfully pumping through the site of injury.

When he spits in his hand, you break down and let out a wail, and based on the grunt he lets out as he strokes himself, it seems to only spur him on further. You don’t even know when he’s pushed your underwear to the side but when he feel his tip rest for a moment on your entrance, it makes you cry out a plea, using your right hand to claw at his thigh while hopelessly trying to thrash your legs with your thighs trapped under his knees that are painfully digging into your flesh, “No, no, no, please, please—”

He interlocks his fingers through yours making sure his palm presses down on your injured hand and his other hand pulls roughly at your hair to bring your head up. He spits in your face then slams your head back down so hard your teeth chatter and you taste warm blood filling your mouth.

He pushes into you with a frustrated grunt at how painfully dry you are, but that doesn’t stop him for long. He spits on his hand and reaches down to add a few wet fingers to his length, causing you to cry out at the painful and unnatural stretch. With a low growl in the back of his throat, he slowly pulls himself nearly entirely out of you before slamming his hips so far into you that you jerk forward and feel your walls tear around him. The sight of blood has him nearly drooling and makes his task of rocking into you a little easier, and you’re sick with the thought. You can’t even cry out for help, all your oxygen being used to actually keep yourself breathing despite your tortured cries and the fear you might actually split apart because of how relentlessly his massive length is pounding into you, literally tearing your cunt apart.

You feel his thrusts start to get sloppy as he loses his rhythm and his muscles tense up. With one final slam he releases himself and lets his heavy body fall on top of you, nearly suffocating you as you heave for enough air to cry. When he pulls out, you hear the disgusting sound of your blood mixed with his come before it drips onto the floor, and you hear him hum in delight as he shoves two fingers inside you earning a yelp before popping them into his mouth and moaning at the taste.

When his breathing calms down, he finally crawls up to look at you, your face stained with tears and snot and spit pooling underneath your flushed cheeks.

“Better get used to it, babe.”

ϟ

💛 [taglist: @pr300877, @cowboysnbugs]

[spence-whore]

You are in love

Spencer Agnew x reader

A/N this was inspired by you are in love by Taylor Swift. Yes, I’m a big swiftie lmao. This isn’t so focused on the lyrics or anything specifically in the song. I just thought the idea of him realizing he was in love with his partner was really cute. This is gonna be a really short one but it’s cute. Simple but sweet:) also, forewarning. I do not get to heavily edit this, so you will have to overlook the typos. I have to go study for my exam tomorrow now. Hope you all have had/are having a good day<3

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Spencer realized he is falling harder and harder each day. It was so cliche but he felt like a teenager falling in love for the first time. He honestly felt like there was no time or use for things like this during this period of his life but then he met you. You were new two years ago to the cast. You were hired on in the art department and had to help Spencer out one day with something for one of his characters. It was like love at first sight for him, as cheesy as it is to say. You just had such a carefree energy. You were also always so happy. You were like a big cup of coffee. Anyone who spent any time around you was in the best mood and ready to kick the days ass.

“Hey loser.” You said as you flopped down in a chair beside his desk. It was the end of the day and usually, the two of you would go to his place and order food then watch something or play a game. Tonight, you two were going over to Shayne and Courtney’s home for a little celebration. “You ready to head out?” You asked giving him a soft smile.

Just your smile alone flooded his chest with the craziest butterflies. He felt heat flood to his chest and he smiled and nodded his head at you. “Yep, we’re going to Courtney and Shayne’s house, aren’t we?” He asked while turning his computer off and grabbing his stuff.

“Yes, I’m gonna go get absolutely plastered and you are gonna have to take care of me for the reeeeest of the night.” You said jokingly, throwing your arm over his shoulder.

Just you touching the man sent sparks flying throughout his body. “Yeah, right. You will take one sip of a drink, complain about it not being good, then give it to me to finish.” He said glaring at you.

The two of you headed out of the office hand in hand, to your car. You were in your head thinking about some of the stuff you had to get done tomorrow and realized someone was burning holes into the side of your head. You looked out of your corner of your eye and seen Spencer staring at you.

“Whatcha looking at, pretty boy?” You asked giving his hand a small squeeze.

Spencer tried laughing it off, slightly embarrassed that you caught him staring at you. He shot his eyes forward then glanced back over at you again, “Something beautiful.”

The two of you finally reached his car and got in to make your way to Courtney and Shayne’s home. There wasn’t much talking. You just played music over the aux while zoning out. Spencer could do nothing but stare at you. There was just something different about you tonight. He didn’t know if it was a certain way you had done your hair or the outfit you were wearing or what. He just felt like he was staring at the graphics in a new video game or something. He couldn’t get over how ethereal you are.

You finally made it to the party and started greeting people as the two of you walked in. You ended up splitting up, as he went with Shayne and Tommy and you went with Courtney, Kimmy, and Amanda.

The three of you stood for a while talking whenever Amanda noticed a certain someone kept glancing at you.

“If someone turns his head to look at you anymore, his neck is gonna break.” Amanda whispered while nodding her head in Spencer’s direction.

“I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever seen him so.. love struck before.” Courtney said giggling. “Ever since the two of you have been hanging out, he just seems so much happier. You just bring so much light to him.”

You started shaking your head while smiling, “No, no. It’s not me that has caused that. He’s just happier in general.” You explained while staring down at your drink and stirring it.

“Y/N. I have never seen that boy blush before until he started talking to you. You are like the sunshine to him.” Amanda said softly smiling at you and you couldn’t help but to blush.

“He honestly makes me really happy. Every other partner I’ve had in the past, I’ve never felt so comfortable with like I do with him. He is like my best friend.” You said while pushing your hair behind your ear.

Courtney just starts giggling while looking towards Spencer, “Literally every time he looks over here, his face lights up. It’s so freaking cute.”

Angela and Arasha walked up, so the five of you started talking about work and Courtney and Shayne.

Over at Shayne, Spencer, and Tommy’s table, they were drilling him about you and giving him shit.

“If you look at Y/N anymore, your eyes are going to burst of your head Spencer.” Tommy said while laughing at him.

“I wasn’t look at them, what are you talking about?” Spencer said while shaking his head and tried to change the topic to a new movie that is coming out. Of course, this didn’t work because he glanced over at Y/N and it was like his brain went to mush. They were standing directly under a light, so it was like a spotlight was on them. They just looked perfect. His words kept getting jumbled together and he kept stuttering. He finally just stopped trying to talk and stared at them for a minute. All he could think about was wanting to go over and kiss them. He was just so enamored by them.

Shayne was looking at him smiling because he knew exactly what it was he was feeling but he didn’t say anything. He knew that feeling because that is exactly how he felt whenever he started falling for Courtney.

It was suddenly like Spencer’s brain just broke down even more than it all made sense to him. All he could think was, holy shit I am in love with Y/N. His chest felt like it was on fire and he started shaking due to nerves.

“Are you okay dude?” Shayne asked noticing that the guy looked like he was about to start crying.

“No. I’m fucked.” Spencer whispered to himself before he chugged the rest of his whiskey.

“What’s wrong?” Tommy asked aloud, looking at the two in front of him.

“I think I’m in love with them.” Spencer mumbled while just staring at the table in front of him. Tommy and Shayne lost it and started shouting nonsense while acting like teenage girls. They never thought they would see Spencer like this because he was always someone who shut down his feelings. They couldn’t get over the fact that Spencer had finally found his person.

Y/N caught on to the two freaking out while their partner sat, looking like he was having a meltdown at their table. You stayed at the table staring at the three till you noticed Spencer was visibly tearing up and starting to cry.

“Oh, shit. I’ll be back, I think something’s wrong with Spencer.” Y/N said before jumping up to go grab Spencer and walk outside. You grabbed a water bottle while on the way and approached their table. “Hey boys, sorry to break up the party for a few minutes. I’m gonna grab curly headed goober here for a second.” You said giving Tommy and Shayne a soft smile.

Spencer just stood up and walked towards the back door that lead to the backyard. You followed behind him and shut the door behind him.

“Hey you, are you okay?” You asked, sitting down beside Spencer on the swing. You placed a hand on his thigh and started rubbing your thumb across his leg then handed him the water in your other hand. “Thought maybe you could use some water. You know, gotta stay hydrated.” You said whispering.

Spencer forced a smile back to you while grabbing the water then shook his head while getting a sip of it. “I’m fucking terrified.” He said while staring at the ground.

“Why?” You asked, taking your hand off his leg and wrapping your arm around his shoulder then resting your hand on the back of his head. You started lightly scratching the back of his head while staring at him, hoping maybe this would calm him down. Little did you know, the little signs of affection you were giving him were driving him absolutely insane. He just wanted to shout that he was in love with you.

You turned a little in the swing to face him but kept your hand on the back of his head. You were giving him a few minutes to try and calm down before asking anymore questions. Out of nowhere’s, Spencer just blurts, “I’m scared because of this.” It caught you off guard. All you could think was, I fucked this up. He’s going to break up with me.

Spencer felt you tense up and all he could do was laugh. “I’m not meaning it in a negative way. Actually, maybe a little. I’m just terrified I’m going to screw this up.” Spencer explained, finally looking over at you.

“Spencer, you could never-“ He immediately cuts you off. “I’m in love with you. I mean I am head over heels, infatuated with you. The second I wake up in the morning, you’re the first thing on my mind. The second I hear news that is exciting, I want to run to find you and tell you. The second I accomplish something, I want to find you and tell you. You give me a reason to be excited about the world, Y/N. I know we’ve only been together for almost eight months but god, I am so in love with you and just want to experience the rest of my life with only you.”

All you could do was just stare at him. “I’m not proposing to you right now, if that’s what it sounds like.” Spencer said while chuckling. “I’m just saying that one day, I want to marry you. One day, I want to do the thing old married couples do with you.”

“Can you say that again?” You asked staring at him in shock.

He looked at you with confusion, “I’m not proposing to you?”

You just laughed and shook your head, “No, no. What you said a minute ago.”

He just nodded his head slowly for a second before turning in the swing to face you. “I am so in love with you.”

All you could do was pull him into a hug and to hold him for a minute. “Is this why you were crying?” You asked laughing a little, pulling back to look at him. He just shook his head yes while looking at you. He looked like he was mentally shitting himself but you realized it was because you had not said anything to him.

“Oh shit, wait, I love you too, you dork.” You said back while giggling. You cupped the side of his face and just brushed your thumb over his cheek for a minute while looking at him.

“God, I am so in love with you Spencer.”

[jiarkives]

wanting was enough

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ summary — wanting was enough. for steve, it was enough.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ character — steve rogers (marvel)

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ content — angst ; steve’s pov to this

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ notes — timeline? we don’t know her 🤪 for the sake of the plot, bucky was found after eg and no one died ,,, also i hope this makes sense because i am like half asleep as i am writing this

~

Steve Rogers had always loved and will always love Margaret ‘Peggy’ Carter. For him, no one will ever compare to who she was as a soldier, as a woman, and as the one who held his heart. Or so he thought until he was pulled out of the ice and was thrusted into the world he knew nothing about, until he met you.

You were a rookie agent when Steve was pulled out of the ice and when he woke, Nick Fury assigned you your first mission—to help Captain America get back on his feet and adjust to his new world.

You and Steve didn’t hit it off immediately. In fact, you got off on the wrong foot. With your wits contradicting each other’s, and your smart mouth, you were bound to disagree. You would bicker at every waking hour you spent together, but he would be an absolute angel to everyone else, fueling your irritation further and so you gave the same energy back, maybe even more.

You directed all your anger onto him. At every moment, you were ready to reply with something snarky. You were always short with him, but you were the opposite to everybody else. In your head, you were giving him a dose of his own medicine.

And he let you because in his head, that was better. Your distance was so much better, not because he despised you, but because he saw her in you.

He saw her in the way you moved, the way you handled yourself with confidence and strength, the way you put deserving people in their places. But then as if a bucket of cold water was dumped on him and he realized.

He realized that everything was different, that she was gone. And for the first time, he saw you, and it just became so much worse because you were here, you were real, you were alive. You were someone he could hurt.

Then, not even a year after he was assigned to you, Fury reassigned you another mission, and the both of you were internally grateful. You were grateful to have been given a break from his insufferable ass, and he was grateful to have been distanced from you before his heart positively combusted.

Months passed right before his eyes and before he knew it, it was 2012. Fury sought him out for the Avengers Initiative and once again, he was Captain America.

With the shit that had gone down since he became an Avenger, he was always almost too busy to let his mind wander to you. Then, he found out that Peggy was alive. She was in this world and all of a sudden, he felt he had something to hold on to when the world moved too fast. And with his mind occupied with Peggy, you were almost completely wiped from his mind.

Then Peggy died and his world crumbled around him. He had seen it coming for a while. With Peggy’s age, he knew it was bound to happen sooner than later, but it was still a pain he never imagined.

Almost immediately after her death, the accords happened and faster than he could even blink, he was a fugitive, an enemy of the state. Everything went to shit after Peggy’s death and he felt as if he lost control over his own life.

Then you sought him out and took him in. You weren’t an Avenger, so you weren’t included in the whole mess in Germany, but you were still an agent of SHIELD.

You gave him shelter when he was on the run despite your connection to SHIELD. You were ready to throw everything away for him despite your history.

And during his time on the down low, your feelings started to bloom, seeing him in a new light, seeing him, not as Captain America, but as Steve, the scrawny boy from Brooklyn who wanted to kick bullies’ asses, but always ended up getting his ass kicked. But neither of you acted on your feelings.

Then all of a sudden, he was being whisked away because apparently, a titan from another planet was planning a universal genocide. They fought, but were unsuccessful.

Half of the world was wiped away and the first thing he thought to do after the battle was to seek you out, so he did. But you weren’t there. You weren’t in your own home and the only thing left of you was the pile of sand on your kitchen floor and a mixing bowl next to it.

Despite half of the world’s population being gone, it felt as if the world was moving too fast. Or maybe it was the grief slowing him down. Maybe it was both, but before he even realized, five years had passed and they were all presented a chance at getting half the world back, courtesy of Scott Lang.

With a lot of hiccups and injuries, but thankfully no deaths, they were able to get the world back and the titan was gone. Truly gone.

After the battle, Steve didn’t even wait until he was fully recovered to seek you out, and there you were in your house, coping with the fact that you have just lost five years of your life, despite feeling like you have only been gone for no longer than a minute.

He had barged into your home, looking you over before kissing the life out of you and there, something had bloomed.

At first, he was almost ecstatic at the thought that you were finally in his arms safe, sound, and alive. Then, he was scared. You were alive. You were someone the world could take away from him. You were someone he could hurt, and so he kept you a secret. He didn’t want to risk the world finding out about Captain America’s weakness and ultimately using you against him.

To his relief, you agreed to be his dirty little secret. It was fair, he thought. You got to keep your relationship with him and he got to keep you safe.

But it didn’t ease his fear. Despite the world not knowing about you and him, he was still scared. You were still with him and he could still hurt you, unlike Peggy, darling, dearest, dead Peggy.

And so unknowingly, he was pulling away from you and slowly holding on to the memories of Peggy, the memories of the world he knew before everything went to shit.

He knew damn well it was gone, that it didn’t exist anymore, but if it wasn’t real, if it wasn’t here, if it wasn’t alive, then he couldn’t fuck it up. The world wouldn’t be able to take it away from him because it was gone.

But you noticed, of course you did, and he didn’t expect anything less. You were a smart woman, his smart woman, and he knew you would catch on, but he didn’t expect you to confront him right after that mission. The mission where he found out that Bucky was alive, but he wasn’t his Bucky anymore. He was turned into one of HYDRA’s greatest weapon and he was taken because he was someone to Steve Rogers, he was someone to Captain America.

But he was there, he was real, he was alive, just like you are. And like Bucky, you could be taken away and used against him, and he wouldn’t know what he’d do if that ever happens, so he pushed you away. He told you lies. He held onto the memories of Peggy like a lifeline in hopes of keeping himself sane as he watched the best thing that ever happened to him crumble right before his eyes.

He watched as you left, unknowingly taking his heart with you.

In your head, his heart was buried with Peggy, completely unaware of the fact that you had taken his heart as you left.